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THE  LITTLE  DEMON 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

THE  OLD  HOUSE  (Second  Impression) 
THE  CREATED  LEGEND  (In  preparation) 


THE 

LITTLE    DEMON 

BY  FEODOR  SOLOGUB 


AUTHORISED  TRANSLATION 

BY     JOHN     GOURNOS     AND 

RICHARD  ALDINGTON 


ALFRED    A    KNOPF 
NEW    YORK    MCMXVI 


First  published  igib 


mi 
TRANSLATORS'  PREFACE 

"  The  Little  Demon  "  is  a  successful  and  almost  imper- 
ceptible merging  of  comedy  with  tragedy.  It  is  in  fact  a 
tragedy  in  which  the  comic  forms  an  integral  part  and  is 
not  sandwiched  in  superficially  merely  to  please  the  reader. 
The  method  resembles  in  a  measure  that  of  Gogol's  "  Dead 
Souls,"  with  which  "  The  Little  Demon  "  was  compared 
upon  its  first  appearance  in  1907. 

It  is  a  work  of  art — and  it  is  a  challenge  ;  and  this 
challenge  is  addressed  not  to  Russia  alone,  but  to  the  whole 
world. 

"  What  a  sad  place  Russia  is !  "  exclaimed  Pushkin 
when  Gogol  read  his  story  to  him.  But  what  the  ivorld  knows 
to-day  is  that  Gogol  gave  us  a  portrait  of  the  human  soul, 
and  that  only  the  frame  was  Russian.  Prince  Kropotkin 
assures  us  that  there  are  Chichikovs  in  England,  and  Pro- 
fessor Phelps  of  Yale  is  equally  emphatic  about  their  presence 
in  America. 

And  this  is  also  true  of  Peredonov,  of  "  The  Little  Demon.'''' 

In  spite  of  its  "  local  colour  "  and  its  portrayal  of  small 
town  life  in  Russia,  this  novel  has  the  world  for  its  stage,  and 
its  chief  actor,  Peredonov,  is  a  universal  character.  He  is 
a  Russian — an  American — an  Englishman.  He  is  to  be 
found  everywhere,  and  in  every  station  of  life.  Both  trans- 
lators agree  that  they  have  even  met  one  or  two  Peredonovs  at 
London  literary  teas — and  not  a  few  Volodins,  for  that 
matter. 

Certainly  there  is  a  touch  of  Peredonov  in  many  men. 


It  is  a  matter  of  degree.  For  the  extraordinary  thing  about 
tliis  book  is  that  nearly  all  the  characters  are  Peredonovs  of  a 
lesser  calibre.  Their  Peredonovism  lacks  that  concentrated 
intensity  which  lifts  the  unfortunate  Peredonov  to  tragic — 
and  to  comic — heights  in  spite  of  his  pettiness  ;  or  perhaps 
because  his  pettiness  is  so  gigantic. 

\  The  Little  Demon  "  is  a  penetration  into  human  con- 
science, and  a  criticism  of  the  state  of  petty  "  provinciality  " 
into  which  it  has  fallen. 

"  The  Kingdom  of  God  is  within  you."  So  is  the  kingdom 
of  evil.  That  is  the  great  truth  of  "  The  Little  Demon.'''' 
And  in  Peredonov 's  case,  the  inner  spirit  takes  possession  of 
external  objects,  and  all  the  concrete  things  that  his  eyes  see 
become  symbols  of  the  evil  that  is  within  himself.  More 
than  that :  this  spirit  even  creates  for  him  a  "  little  grey, 
nimble  beast  " — the  Nedotikomka — which  is  the  sum  of 
the  evil  forces  of  the  world,  and  against  which  he  has  to 
contend. 

The  author  enters  his  "  herd's  "  condition  so  deeply  that 
even  people  and  objects  and  scenery  are  rendered,  as  it  were, 
through  Peredonov's  eyes — and  the  mood  created  by  this 
subjective  treatment  helps  to  inveigle  the  reader  into  com- 
prehending the  chief  character. 

The  beautiful  Sasha-Liudmilla  episode  relieves  the  Pere- 
donovian  atmosphere  as  a  dab  of  vermilion  relieves  grey. 
But  what  the  author  shows  us  is  that  even  such  an  idyllic 
love  episode  is  affected  by  contact  with  this  atmosphere,  and 
that  its  beauty  and  innocence  become  obscured  under  the 
tissue  of  lies  as  under  a  coat  of  grey  dust.  This,  as  well 
as  other  aspects  of  "  The  Little  Demon,"  are  dealt  with 
at  length  in  my  article  on  Feodor  Sologub  in  "  The  Fort- 
nightly Review  "  (September,  1915),  and  if  I  refrain  from 

vi 


going  over  the  ground  again,  it  is  because  I  hope  that  the 
tale  is  simple  and  clear  enough  to  provide  its  own  comment. 
Finally,  I  may  be  pardoned  for  speaking  of  the  difficulties 
of  translating  "  The  Little  Demon."  Not  only  is  the  original 
extraordinarily  racy  in  parts  and  rich  in  current  Russian 
slang — at  times  almost  obscure  in  meaning,  but  the  char- 
acters occasionally  indulge  in  puns  or  speak  in  rhymes — 
rhyme-speaking  is  not  uncommon  among  the  peasant  classes 
in  Russia.  In  every  case  the  translators  have  striven  to 
give  the  English  equivalent ;  where  the  difficulty  was  of  a 
nature  rendering  this  impossible,  the  translators  have  had  to 
make  use  of  absolutely  unavoidable  footnotes.  The  trans- 
lators have  also  made  every  effort  to  preserve  the  mood  of 
Sologubian  descriptive  prose,  which  is  not  always  an  easy 
matter,  wlien  you  consider  the  natural  pliancy  of  Russian 
and  the  comparatively  rigid  nature  of  English. 

JOHN  COURNOS 

December  1915 


vu 


AUTHOR'S   PREFACE 

TO  THE  SECOND  RUSSIAN  EDITION,  1908 

This  novel,  "  The  Little  Demon"  was  begun  in  1892  and 
finished  in  1902.  It  originally  appeared  in  1905  in  the 
periodical  "  Voprosi  Zhizni,"  but  without  its  final  chapters. 
It  was  first  published  in  its  complete  form  in  March,  1907, 
in  the  "  Shipovnik  "  edition. 

There  are  two  dissenting  opinions  among  those  I  have  seen 
expressed  in  print  as  well  as  among  those  I  have  chanced  to 
hear  personally : 

There  are  some  who  think  that  the  author,  being  a  very 
wicked  man,  wished  to  draw  his  own  portrait,  and  has  repre- 
sented himself  in  the  person  of  the  instructor  Peredonov. 
To  judge  from  his  frankness  it  would  appear  that  the  author 
did  not  have  the  slightest  wish  to  justify  or  to  idealise  himself, 
and  has  painted  his  face  in  the  blackest  colours.  He  has 
accomplished  this  rather  astonishing  undertaking  in  order  to 
ascend  a  kind  of  Golgotha,  and  to  expiate  his  sins  for  some 
reason  or  other.  The  result  is  an  interesting  and  harmless 
novel. 

Interesting,  because  it  shozvs  what  wicked  people  there  are 
in  this  world.  Harmless,  because  the  reader  can  say  :  "  This 
was  not  written  about  me." 

Others,  more  considerate  toward  the  author,  are  of  the 
opinion  that  the  Peredonovstchina  portrayed  in  this  novel  is 
a  sufficiently  widespread  phenomenon. 

Others  go  even  further  and  say  that  if  every  one  of  us 

ix 


should  examine  himself  intently  he  would  discover  unmis- 
takable traits  of  Peredonov. 

Of  these  two  opinions  I  give  preference  to  the  one  most 
agreeable  to  me,  namely,  the  second.  I  did  not  find  it  in- 
dispensable to  create  and  invent  out  of  myself ;  all  that  is 
episodic,  realistic,  and  pyschologic  in  any  novel  is  based  on 
very  precise  observation,  and  I  found  sufficient  "  material ' 
for  my  novel  around  me.  And  if  my  labours  on  this  novel 
have  been  rather  prolonged,  it  has  been  in  order  to  elevate  to 
necessity  whatever  is  here  by  chance  ;  so  that  the  austere 
Ananke  should  reign  on  the  throne  of  Aisa,  the  prodigal 
scatterer  of  episodes. 

It  is  true  that  people  love  to  be  loved.  They  are  pleased 
with  the  portrayal  of  the  nobler,  loftier  aspects  of  the  soul. 
Even  in  villains  they  want  to  see  a  spark  of  nobility,  "the 
divine  spark,''''  as  people  used  to  say  in  the  old  days.  That 
is  why  they  do  not  want  to  believe  the  picture  that  confronts 
them  when  it  is  true,  exact,  gloomy,  and  evil.  They  say  : 
"  It  is  not  about  me." 

No,  my  dear  contemporaries,  it  is  of  you  that  I  have 
written  my  novel,  about  the  Little  Demon  and  his  dreadful 
Nedotikomka,  about  Ardalyon  and  Varvara  Peredonov, 
Pavel  Volodin,  Darya,  Liudmilla,  and  Valeria  Routilov, 
Aleksandr  Pilnikov  and  the  otliers.    About  you. 

This  novel  is  a  mirror — very  skilfully  made.  I  have 
spent  a  long  time  in  polishing  it,  I  have  laboured  over  it 
zealously. 

The  surface  of  my  mirror  is  pure.  It  has  been  remeasured 
again  and  again,  and  most  carefully  verified ;  it  has  not  a 
single  blemish. 

The  monstrous  and  the  beautiful  are  reflected  in  it  with 
equal  precision. 


AUTHOR'S  PREFACE 

TO  THE  FIFTH  RUSSIAN  EDITION,  1909 

/  once  thought  that  Peredonov's  career  was  finished,  and 
that  he  was  not  to  leave  the  psychiatric  hospital  where  lie 
was  placed  after  cutting  Volodin's  throat.  But  latterly 
rumours  have  begun  to  reach  me  to  the  effect  that  Peredonov' s 
mental  derangement  has  proved  to  he  only  temporary,  and 
that  after  a  brief  confinement  he  was  restored  to  freedom. 
These  rumours  sound  hardly  plausible.  I  only  mention 
them  because  even  in  our  days  the  unplausible  happens. 
Indeed,  I  have  read  in  a  newspaper  that  I  am  preparing  to 
write  a  sequel  to  "  The  Little  Demon." 

I  have  heard  that  Varvara  has  apparently  succeeded  in 
convincing  someone  that  Peredonov  had  cause  for  behaving 
as  he  did — that  Volodin  uttered  more  than  once  objectionable 
words,  and  had  betrayed  objectionable  intentions — and  that 
before  his  death  he  said  something  amazingly  insolent  which 
led  to  the  fatal  catastrophe.  I  am  told  that  Varvara  has 
interested  the  Princess  Volchanskaya  in  this  story,  and  the 
Princess,  who  earlier  had  neglected  to  put  in  a  word  for 
Peredonov,  is  now  taking  a  keen  interest  in  his  fate. 

As  to  what  happened  to  Peredonov  after  he  had  left  tlie 
hospital,  my  information  is  rather  vague  and  contradictory. 
Some  people  have  told  me  that  Peredonov  has  entered  the 
police  department,  as  lie  had  been  advised  to  do  by  Skou- 
chayev,  and  has  served  as  a  councillor  in  the  District  Govern- 
ment. He  has  distinguished  himself  in  some  way  or  other, 
and  is  making  a  fine  career. 

xi 


J  have  heard  from  others,  however,  that  it  was  not  Ardalyon 
Borisitch  who  served  in  the  'police,  but  another  Peredonov,  a 
relative  of  our  Peredonov.  Ardalyon  Borisitch  himself  did 
not  succeed  in  entering  the  service,  or  else  he  did  not  wish  to  ; 
instead,  he  has  taken  up  zvith  literary  criticism.  His  articles 
reveal  those  qualities  which  distinguished  him  before. 

This  rumour  strikes  me  as  being  even  more  unlikely  than 
the  first. 

In  any  case,  if  I  should  succeed  in  receiving  precise 
information  about  the  latest  doings  of  Peredonov,  I  will  try 
to  relate  it  in  all  its  adequate  detail. 


xn 


DIALOGUE 
TO  THE  SEVENTH  RUSSIAN  EDITION,  MAY  1913 

"  My  soul,  why  are  you  thus  dismayed  ?  " 

"  Because  of  the  hate  that  surrounds  the  name  of  the 
author  of '  The  Little  Demon.''  Many  people  who  disagree 
upon  other  things  are  agreed  on  this." 

"Accept  the  malice  and  the  abuse  submissively" 

"  But  is  not  our  labour  worthy  of  gratitude  ?  Why  then 
this  hate  ?  " 

"  This  hate  is  rather  like  fear.  You  waken  the  conscience 
too  loudly,  you  are  too  frank." 

"  But  isn't  there  some  use  in  my  truth  ?  " 

"  You  want  compliments  !    But  this  is  not  Paris." 

"  Oh,  no,  it  is  not  Paris  !  " 

"  My  soul,  you  are  a  true  Parisienne,  a  child  of  European 
civilisation.  You  have  come  in  a  charming  dress  and  in 
light  sandals  to  a  place  where  they  wear  smocks  and  greased 
boots.  Do  not  be  astonished  if  the  greased  boot  sometimes 
steps  rudely  on  your  tender  foot.  Its  possessor  is  an  honest 
fellow." 

"  But  what  a  morose,  what  an  azvkivard  fellow  !  " 


Xill 


AUTHOR'S   INTRODUCTION 
TO   THE  ENGLISH  EDITION 

It  is  quite  natural  for  the  author  of  a  novel  to  experience 
pleasure  and  pride  upon  learning  that  his  work  is  about  to 
become  accessible  to  a  new  circle  of  readers.  Upon  learning, 
however,  that  Mr.  John  Cournos  was  translating  my  novel, 
"  The  Little  Demon,"  into  English  I  experienced  not  a  little 
apprehension.  In  days  of  Anglo-Russian  rapprochement, 
in  days  of  great  stress,  when  a  common  danger  unites  the 
two  great  nations,  it  seemed  to  me  perhaps  unseasonable 
to  acquaint  England  with  this  sombre  picture.  It  occurred 
to  me  that  there  was  a  danger  of  my  new  readers  accepting 
this  novel  as  a  precise  and  characteristic  portrayal  of 
Russian  life.  But  my  friends  told  me  that  Mr.  John 
Cournos  was  fulfilling  his  task  with  great  love  and  care, 
and  this  gives  me  the  hope  that  the  true  meaning  of  my  work 
will  be  also  understood  in  the  translation,  reproducing  so 
accurately  the  original. 

In  any  case,  I  should  like  to  warn  my  readers  against  the 
temptation  of  seeing  only  Russian  traits  in  this  novel.  The 
portrait  of  Peredonov  is  an  expression  of  the  all-human  in- 
clination''towards  evil,  of  the  almost  disinterested  tendency 
of  a  perverse  human  soul  to  depart  from  the  common  course 
of  universal  life  directed  by  one  omnipotent  Will ;  and, 
taking  vengeance  upon  the  world  for  its  oxvn  grievous  loneli- 
ness, to  bring  into  the  world  evil  and  abomination,  to  mutilate 
the  given  reality  and  to  defile  the  beautiful  dreams  of  humanity. 

This  inclination  towards  evil,  raging  in  the  hearts  of  man- 

xv 


kind  in  all  latitudes  and  longitudes,  invests  itself  only  out- 
wardly with  an  appearance  of  selfish  expedience.  A  soul 
marred  by  this  tragic  affliction,  that  of  a  morose  separation 
from  the  world,  is  borne  along  by  a  sovereign  justice,  which 
rules  worlds  and  hearts,  upon  disastrous  paths,  towards  mad- 
ness and  towards  death. 

The  afflicted  soul  does  not  rejoice  at  its  gains,  to  such  a 
degree  visionary,  to  such  a  degree  worthless.  A  foreboding 
of  ultimate  destruction  torments  it  with  a  gnawing  sadness. 

Where  then,  in  what  blessed  land,  is  not  man  tormented 
with  this  agonising  sadness,  these  true  tokens  of  the  same 
morose  and  sombre  affliction  ?  The  Russian  "  khandra  ': 
and  the  English  spleen  are  the  expression  of  one  and  the 
same  malady  of  the  spirit.  Even  in  more  noble  souls,  these 
harsh  visitors,  so  familiar  to  both  Englishmen  and  Russians, 
have  been  created  by  the  omnipotent  Will  not  without  a 
beneficent  design.  They  incessantly  remind  the  soul,  suc- 
cumbing in  the  life  struggle,  that  the  enemy  is  near,  cunning 
and  strong. 

I  would  be  glad  if  my  new  readers  should  appraise 
not  only  the  detestable  sinfulness  and  perversity  of  a  soul 
warped  by  the  force  of  evil,  but  also  the  great  yearning  of  this 
soul — the  evil  will  atones  to  a  certain  degree  in  this  truly 
human  feeling ;  and  in  this  feeling  the  afflicted  man  also 
communes  with  each  one  of  us. 

This  novel  will  not  be  accepted  by  you  in  condemnation  of 
my  country — my  country  has  not  a  few  enchantments,  which 
make  her  beloved  not  only  by  her  own,  but  also  by  the  obser- 
vant stranger.  Perhaps  the  attentive  reader  will  find  even 
in  this  sombre  novel  certain  reflections  of  enchanting  Rus- 
sian nature,  and  of  the  live  Russian  soul. 

FEODOR  SOLOGUB 

January  1916 


CHAPTER  I 

After  Mass  the  members  of  the  congregation  scattered 
to  their  homes.  A  few  stopped  to  talk  under  the  old 
maples  and  lindens  near  the  white  stone  walls,  within  the 
enclosure.  All  were  in  holiday  dress  and  looked  at  one 
another  cheerily.  It  appeared  as  if  the  inhabitants  of 
this  town  lived  peacefully  and  amicably — even  happily. 
But  it  was  only  in  appearance. 

Peredonov,  a  schoolmaster  in  the  gymnasia,  stood 
among  his  friends,  and  as  he  looked  at  them  gravely  out 
of  his  small,  stealthy  eyes,  across  the  golden  rims  of  his 
spectacles,  he  remarked  : 

"  Princess  Volchanskaya  herself  made  the  promise 
to  Vara.  '  As  soon,'  she  said,  '  as  you  marry  him,  I'll 
hunt  up  an  inspector's  job  for  him.'  " 

"  But  how  can  you  think  of  marrying  Varvara 
Dmitrievna  ?  "  asked  the  red-faced  Falastov.  "  She's 
your  first  cousin." 

Everyone  laughed.  Peredonov' s  usually  rosy,  uncon- 
cerned, somnolent  face  showed  anger. 

"  Second  cousin,"  he  said  gruffly,  as  he  looked  angrily 
past  his  companions. 

"  Did  the  Princess  give  you  the  promise  herself  ?  " 
asked  Routilov,  a  tall,  pale,  smartly  dressed  man. 

"  She  didn't  give  it  to  me,  but  to  Vara,"  answered 
Peredonov. 

"  Of  course,  you  are  ready  to  believe  all  she  tells  you," 
said  Routilov  with  animation.  "  It's  easy  enough  to 
make  up  a  tale.  Why  didn't  you  see  the  Princess  her- 
self ?  " 

"  This  is  how  it  was  :  I  went  with  Vara,  but  we  didn't 
find  her  in,  missed  her  by  just  five  minutes,"  explained 

B— LITTLE   DEMON  1 


Peredonov.  "  She  had  gone  to  the  country,  and  wouldn't 
be  back  for  three  weeks  or  so.  I  couldn't  wait  for  her, 
because  I  had  to  be  back  here  for  the  exams." 

"  It  sounds  suspicious,"  laughed  Routilov,  showing  his 
yellow  teeth. 

Peredonov  grew  thoughtful.  His  companions  left  him  ; 
Routilov  alone  remained. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Peredonov,  "  I  can  marry  whom  I 
like.    Varvara  is  not  the  only  one." 

"  You're  quite  right,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  anyone  would 
be  glad  to  marry  you,"  Routilov  encouraged  him. 

They  passed  out  of  the  gate,  and  walked  slowly  in  the 
unpaved  and  dusty  square.     Peredonov  said  : 

"  But  what  about  the  Princess  ?  She'll  be  angry  if  I 
chuck  Varvara." 

"  What's  the  Princess  to  you  ?  "  said  Routilov. 
"  You're  not  going  with  her  to  a  kitten's  christening. 
She  ought  to  get  you  the  billet  first.  There'll  be  time 
enough  to  tie  yourself  up — you're  taking  things  too 
much  on  trust  !  " 

"  That's  true,"  agreed  Peredonov  irresolutely. 

"  You  ought  to  say  to  Varvara,"  said  Routilov  per- 
suasively, "  '  First  the  billet,  my  dear  girl,  then  I'll 
believe  you.'  Once  you  get  your  place,  you  can  marry 
whom  you  like.  You'd  better  take  one  of  my  sisters — 
your  choice  of  the  three.  Smart,  educated,  young  ladies, 
any  one  of  them,  I  can  say  without  flattery,  a  queen  to 
Varvara.    She's  not  fit  to  tie  their  shoe-strings." 

"  Go  on,"  shouted  Peredonov. 

"  It's  true.  What's  your  Varvara  ?  Here,  smell 
this." 

Routilov  bent  down,  broke  off  a  fleecy  stalk  of  henbane, 
crumpled  it  up  in  his  hand,  together  with  the  leaves  and 
dirty  white  flowers,  and  crushing  it  all  between  his 
fingers,  put  it  under  Peredonov's  nose.  The  heavy  un- 
pleasant odour  made  Peredonov  frown.  Routilov  ob- 
served : 


'  To  crush  like  this,  and  to  throw  away — there's  your 
Varvara  for  you  ;  there's  a  big  difference  between  her 
and  my  sisters,  let  me  tell  you,  my  good  fellow.  They  are 
fine,  lively  girls — take  the  one  you  like — but  you  needn't 
be  afraid  of  getting  bored  with  any  of  them.  They're 
quite  young  too — the  eldest  is  three  times  younger  than 
your  Varvara." 

Routilov  said  all  this  in  his  usual  brisk  and  happy 
manner,  smiling — but  he  was  tall  and  narrow-chested, 
and  seemed  consumptive  and  frail,  while  from  under  his 
new  and  fashionable  hat  his  scant,  close-trimmed  bright 
hair  stuck  out  pitifully. 

''  No  less  than  three  times  !  "  observed  Peredonov 
dryly,  as  he  took  off  his  spectacles  and  began  to  wipe 
them. 

''  It's  true  enough  !  "  exclaimed  Routilov.  "  But 
you'd  better  look  out,  and  don't  be  slow  about  it,  while 
I'm  alive  ;  they  too  have  a  good  opinion  of  themselves — 
if  you  try  later  you  may  be  too  late.  Any  one  of  them 
would  have  you  with  great  pleasure." 

4  Yes,  everyone  falls  in  love  with  me  here,"  said 
Peredonov  with  a  grave  boastfulness. 

'  There,  you  see,  it's  for  you  to  take  advantage  of  the 
moment,"  said  Routilov  persuasively. 

'  The  chief  thing  is  that  she  mustn't  be  lean,"  said 
Peredonov  with  anxiety  in  his  voice.     "  I  prefer  a  fat 


one." 


;'  Don't  you  worry  on  that  account,"  said  Routilov 
warmly.  "  Even  now  they  are  plump  enough  girls,  but 
they  have  far  from  reached  their  full  growth  ;  all  this 
will  come  in  good  time.  As  soon  as  they  marry,  they'll 
improve,  like  the  oldest — well,  you've  seen  our  Larissa, 
a  regular  fishpie  !  " 

"  I'd  marry,"  said  Peredonov,  "  but  I'm  afraid  that 
Vara  will  make  a  row." 

"  If  you're  afraid  of  a  row — I'll  tell  you  what  you 
ought  to  do,"  said  Routilov  with  a  sly  smile.     "  You 

3 


ought  to  make  quick  work  of  it ;  marry,  say,  to-day  or 
to-morrow,  and  suddenly  show  up  at  home  with  your 
young  wife.  Say  the  word,  and  I'll  arrange  it  for  to- 
morrow evening  ?     Which  one  do  you  want  ?  ' 

Peredonov  suddenly  burst  into  loud,  cackling  laughter. 

"  Well,  I  see  you  like  the  idea— it's  all  settled  then  ?  " 
asked  Routilov. 

Peredonov  stopped  laughing  quite  as  suddenly,  and  said 
gravely,  quietly,  almost  in  a  whisper  : 

"  She'll  inform  against  me — that  miserable  jade  !  ' 

"  She'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  said  Routilov  per- 
suasively. 

"  Or  she'll  poison  me,"  whispered  Peredonov  in  fear. 

"  You  leave  it  all  to  me,"  Routilov  prevailed  upon  him, 
"  I'll  see  that  you  are  well  protected " 


a 


I  shan't  marry  without  a  dot,"  said  Peredonov 
sullenly. 

Routilov  was  not  astonished  by  the  new  turn  in  the 
thoughts  of  his  surly  companion.  He  replied  with  the 
same  warmth  : 

"  You're  an  odd  fellow.  Of  course,  my  sisters  have  a 
dot.  Are  you  satisfied  ?  I'll  run  along  now  and  arrange 
everything.  Only  keep  your  mouth  shut,  not  a  breath, 
do  you  hear,  not  to  anyone  !  " 

He  shook  Peredonov's  hand,  and  made  off  in  great 
haste.  Peredonov  looked  silently  after  him.  A  picture 
rose  up  in  his  mind  of  the  Routilov  girls,  always  cheerful 
and  laughing.  An  immodest  thought  squeezed  a  degrad- 
ing likeness  of  a  smile  to  his  lips — it  appeared  for  an 
instant  and  vanished.  A  confused  restlessness  stirred 
within  him. 

"  What  about  the  Princess  ?  "  he  reflected.  "  The 
others  have  the  cash  without  her  power ;  but  if  I  marry 
Varvara  I'll  fall  into  an  inspector's  job,  and  later  perhaps 
they'll  make  me  a  Head-Master." 

He  looked  after  the  bustling,  scampering  Routilov  and 
thought  maliciously  : 


"  Let  him  run  !  " 

And  this  thought  gave  him  a  lingering,  vague  pleasure. 
Then  he  began  to  feel  sad  because  he  was  alone ;  he 
pulled  his  hat  down  over  his  forehead,  knitted  his  bright 
eyebrows,  and  quickly  turned  towards  his  home  across 
the  unpaved,  deserted  streets,  overgrown  with  pearl 
grass  and  white  flowers,  and  water-cress  and  grass  that 
had  been  stamped  down  into  the  mud. 

Someone  called  to  him  in  a  quick,  quiet  voice  : 

"  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  come  in  to  us." 

Peredonov  raised  his  gloomy  eyes,  and  looked  angrily 
beyond  the  hedge.  In  the  garden  behind  the  gate  stood 
Natatya  Afanasyevna  Vershina,  a  small,  slender,  dark- 
skinned  woman,  black-browed  and  black-eyed,  and  all 
in  black.  She  was  smoking  a  cigarette,  in  a  dark,  cherry- 
wood  mouthpiece,  and  smiling  lightly,  as  though  she 
knew  something  that  was  not  to  be  said,  but  to  be  smiled 
at.  Not  so  much  by  words,  as  by  her  light,  quick  move- 
ments, she  asked  Peredonov  into  her  garden  ;  she  opened 
the  gate  and  stood  aside,  smiled  invitingly,  and  at  the 
same  time  motioned  persuasively  with  her  hands,  as  if  to 
say  :    "  Enter,  why  do  you  stand  there  ?  " 

And  Peredonov  entered,  submitting  to  her  witching, 
silent  movements.  But  he  soon  paused  on  the  sand  path 
where  a  few  broken  twigs  caught  his  eye,  and  he  looked 
at  his  watch. 

"  It's  time  for  lunch,"  he  grumbled. 

Though  his  watch  had  served  him  a  long  time,  yet 
even  now,  in  the  presence  of  people,  he  would  glance  with 
satisfaction  at  its  large  gold  case.  It  was  twenty  minutes 
to  twelve.  Peredonov  decided  that  he  would  remain  for 
a  short  time.  He  walked  morosely  after  Vershina  along 
the  garden-path,  past  the  neglected  clumps  of  raspberry 
canes  and  currants  with  their  red  and  black  clusters. 

The  garden  was  growing  yellow  and  variegated  with 
fruits  and  late  flowers.  There  were  many  fruit  and  other 
trees   and   bushes ;     low-spreading   apple    trees,    round- 

5 


leafed  pear  trees,  lindens,  cherry  trees  with  smooth, 
glossy  leaves,  plum  trees  and  honeysuckle.  The  elder- 
berry trees  were  red  with  berries.  Close  to  the  fence  was 
a  dense  growth  of  Siberian  geraniums — small  pale-rose 
flowers  with  purple  veins.  Thorny  purple  buds  stood  out 
with  intense  vividness  among  the  bushes.  A  small,  one- 
storey,  grey,  wooden  house  stood  near  by,  and  a  path  at 
its  door  opened  out  wide  into  the  garden.  It  seemed 
charming  and  cosy.  A  part  of  the  vegetable  garden  was 
visible  behind  it.  The  dry  poppy  heads  rocked  there, 
as  well  as  the  large,  white-yellow  caps  of  camomile.  The 
yellow  heads  of  sunflowers  were  beginning  to  droop  with 
ripeness,  while  among  the  useful  herbs,  some  hemlock 
lifted  its  white,  and  the  hemlock  geranium  its  pale  purple 
umbrellas.  Here  bright  yellow  buttercups  and  small 
slipper  flowers  also  flourished. 

"  Were  you  at  Mass  ?  "  asked  Vershina. 

"  Yes,  I  was,"  answered  Peredonov  gruffly. 

"  I  hear  Marta  has  just  returned  also,"  said  Vershina. 
"  She  often  goes  to  our  church.  I  often  laugh  at  her. 
'  On  whose  account,'  I  say  to  her,  '  do  you  go  to  our 
church  ?  '  She  blushes  and  says  nothing.  Let  us  go  and 
sit  in  the  summer-house,"  she  added  abruptly. 

In  the  garden,  in  the  shade  of  the  spreading  maples, 
stood  an  old,  grey  little  summer-house.  It  had  three 
small  steps  and  a  mossy  floor,  low  walls,  six  roughly-cut 
posts,  a  sloping  slate  roof  with  six  angles.  Marta  was 
sitting  in  the  summer-house,  still  in  her  best  clothes.  She 
had  on  a  brightly  coloured  dress  with  bows,  which  were 
very  unbecoming  to  her.  Her  short  sleeves  showed  her 
sharp,  red  elbows  and  her  large,  red  hands.  In  other 
respects  Marta  was  not  unpleasant  to  look  at.  Her 
freckles  did  not  spoil  her  face ;  she  was  even  considered 
something  of  a  beauty,  especially  by  her  own  people,  the 
Poles,  of  whom  there  were  a  number  in  the  district. 
Marta  was  rolling  cigarettes  for  Vershina.  She  was  very 
anxious  for  Peredonov  to  see  her  and  admire  her.    This 

6 


desire  gave  her  ingenuous  face  an  expression  of  agitated 
affability.  It  was  not  that  Marta  was  altogether  in  love 
with  Percdonov  but  rather  that  Vershina  wanted  to  get 
her  a  home — for  her  family  was  a  large  one.  Marta  was 
anxious  to  please  Vershina,  with  whom  she  had  lived 
several  months,  ever  since  the  death  of  Vershina's  old 
husband ;  not  only  on  her  own  account  but  on  that  of 
her  young  brother,  a  schoolboy,  who  was  also  living  with 
Vershina. 

Vershina  and  Peredonov  entered  the  summer-house. 
Peredonov  greeted  Marta  rather  gloomily,  and  sat  down. 
He  chose  a  place  where  one  of  the  posts  protected  his 
back  from  the  wind  and  kept  the  draught  out  of  his  ears. 
He  glanced  at  Marta's  yellow  boots  with  their  rose  pom- 
poms and  thought  that  they  were  trying  to  entrap  him 
into  marrying  Marta.  He  always  thought  this  when  he 
met  girls  who  were  pleasant  to  him.  He  only  noticed 
faults  in  Marta — many  freckles,  large  hands  and  a  coarse 
skin.  He  knew  that  her  father  held  a  small  farm  on 
lease,  about  six  versts  from  the  town.  The  income  was 
small  and  there  were  many  children  :  Marta  had  left  her 
preparatory  school,  his  son  was  at  school,  the  other 
children  were  still  smaller. 

"  Let  me  give  you  some  beer,"  said  Vershina  quickly. 

There  were  some  glasses,  two  bottles  of  beer  and  a  tin 
box  of  granulated  sugar  on  the  table,  and  a  spoon  which 
had  been  dipped  in  the  beer  lay  beside  them. 

"  All  right,"  said  Peredonov  abruptly. 

Vershina  glanced  at  Marta,  who  filled  the  glass  and 
handed  it  to  Peredonov.  A  half-pleased,  half-timorous 
smile  passed  over  her  face  as  she  did  this. 

"  Put  some  sugar  into  the  beer,"  suggested  Vershina. 

Marta  passed  Peredonov  the  tin  sugar-box.  But  Pere- 
donov exclaimed  irritatedly  : 

"  No,  sugar  makes  it  disgusting  !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  said  Vershina,  "  sugar  makes 
it  delicious." 

7 


"  Very  delicious,"  said  Marta. 

"  I  say  disgusting !  "  repeated  Peredonov,  looking 
angrily  at  the  sugar. 

"  As  you  please,"  said  Vershina,  and  changing  the 
subject  at  once,  she  remarked  with  a  laugh  : 

"  I  get  very  tired  of  Cherepnin." 

Marta  also  laughed.  Peredonov  looked  indifferent :  he 
did  not  take  any  interest  in  other  people's  lives — he  did 
not  care  for  people  and  he  never  thought  of  them  except 
as  they  might  contribute  to  his  own  benefit  and  pleasure. 
Vershina  smiled  with  self-satisfaction  and  said  : 

"  He  thinks  that  I  will  marry  him." 

"  He's  very  cheeky,"  said  Marta,  not  because  she 
thought  so,  but  because  she  wished  to  please  and  flatter 
Vershina. 

"  Last  night  he  looked  into  our  window,"  related 
Vershina.  "  He  got  into  the  garden  while  we  were  at 
supper.  There  was  a  rain-tub  under  the  window,  full  of 
water.  It  was  covered  with  a  plank.  The  water  was 
hidden.  He  climbed  on  the  tub  and  looked  in  the  window. 
As  the  lamp  on  the  table  was  lighted  he  could  see  us,  but 
we  couldn't  see  him.  Suddenly  we  heard  a  noise.  We 
were  frightened  at  first  and  ran  outside.  The  plank  had 
slipped  and  he  had  fallen  into  the  water.  However,  he 
climbed  out  before  we  got  there  and  ran  away,  leaving 
wet  tracks  on  the  path.    We  recognised  him  by  his  back." 

Marta  laughed  shrilly  and  happily  like  a  good-natured 
child.  Vershina  told  this  in  her  usual  quick,  monotonous 
voice  and  then  was  suddenly  silent,  and  smiled  at  the 
corners  of  her  mouth,  which  puckered  up  her  smooth, 
dry  face.  The  smoke-darkened  teeth  showed  themselves 
slightly.  Peredonov  reflected  a  moment  and  suddenly 
burst  into  a  laugh.  He  did  not  always  respond  at  once  to 
what  he  thought  was  funny — his  receptivity  was  sluggish 
and  dull. 

Vershina  smoked  one  cigarette  after  another.  She  could 
not  live  without  tobacco  smoke  under  her  nose. 

8 


"  We'll  soon  be  neighbours,"  announced  Peredonov. 

Vershina  glanced  quickly  at  Marta,  who  flushed  slightly 
and  looked  at  Peredonov  with  a  timorous  air  of  expecta- 
tion, and  then  at  once  turned  away  towards  the  garden. 

"  So  you're  moving  ?  "  asked  Vershina  ;  "  why  ?  ' 

"  It's  too  far  from  the  gymnasia,''''  explained  Pere- 
donov. 

Vershina  smiled  incredulously. 

It's  more  likely,  she  thought,  he  wants  to  be  nearer 
Marta. 

"  But  you've  lived  there  for  several  years,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,"  said  Peredonov  angrily.    "  And  the  landlady's 


swine." 


"  Why  ?  "  asked  Vershina,  with  an  ambiguous  smile. 

Peredonov  grew  somewhat  animated. 

"  She's  repapered  the  rooms  most  damnably,"  he  ex- 
claimed, "  one  piece  doesn't  match  another.  When  you 
open  the  dining-room  door  you  find  quite  another  pattern. 
Most  of  the  room  has  bunches  of  large  and  small  flowers, 
while  behind  the  door  there  is  a  pattern  of  stripes  and 
nails.  And  the  colours  are  different  too.  We  shouldn't 
have  noticed  it,  if  Falastov  had  not  come  and  laughed. 
And  everybody  laughs  at  it." 

"  It  certainly  must  be  ridiculous,"  agreed  Vershina. 

"  We're  not  telling  her  that  we're  going  to  leave,"  said 
Peredonov,  and  at  this  he  lowered  his  voice.  "  We're 
going  to  find  new  apartments  and  we  shall  go  without 
giving  notice." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Vershina. 

"  Or  else  she'll  make  a  row,"  said  Peredonov,  with  a 
touch  of  anxiety  in  his  eyes.  "  That  means  that  we  should 
have  to  pay  her  a  month's  rent  for  her  beastly  hole." 

Peredonov  laughed  with  joy  at  the  thought  of  leaving 
the  house  without  paying. 

"  She's  bound  to  make  a  demand,"  observed  Vershina. 

"  Let  her — she  won't  get  anything  out  of  me,"  replied 
Peredonov  angrily. 

9 


"  We  went  to  Peter*  and  we  made  no  use  of  the  house 
while  we  were  away." 

"  But  you  had  rented  it." 

"  What  then  ?  She  ought  to  make  a  discount ;  why 
should  we  have  to  pay  for  time  when  we  weren't  there  ? 
Besides,  she  is  very  impertinent." 

"  Well,  your  landlady  is  impertinent  because  she's 
yours — your  cousin  is  particularly  quarrelsome,"  said 
Vershina,  with  an  emphasis  on  the  "  cousin." 

Peredonov  frowned  and  looked  dully  in  front  of  him 
with  his  half-sleepy  eyes.  Vershina  changed  the  subject. 
Peredonov  pulled  a  caramel  out  of  his  pocket,  tore  the 
paper  off  and  began  to  chew  it.  He  happened  to  glance 
at  Marta  and  thought  that  she  wanted  a  caramel. 

"  Shall  I  give  her  one  or  not  ?  "  thought  Peredonov. 
"  She's  not  worth  it.  I  suppose  I  ought  to  give  her  one 
to  show  that  I'm  not  stingy.  After  all,  I've  got  a 
pocketful." 

And  he  pulled  out  a  handful  of  caramels. 

"  Here  you  are  !  "  he  said,  and  held  out  the  sweets, 
first  to  Vershina  and  then  to  Marta. 

"  They're  very  good  bonbons,"  he  said,  "  expensive 
ones — thirty  kopecks  a  pound." 

Each  of  the  women  took  a  sweet. 

"  Take  more,"  he  said,  "  I've  lots  of  them.  They're 
very  nice  bonbons — I  wouldn't  eat  bad  ones." 

"  Thank  you,  I  don't  want  any  more,"  said  Vershina 
in  her  quick,  monotonous  voice. 

And  Marta  repeated  after  her  the  same  words,  but  with 
less  decision. 

Peredonov  glanced  incredulously  at  Marta  and  said  : 

"  What  do  you  mean — you  don't  want  them  ?  Have 
another." 

He  took  a  single  caramel  for  himself  from  the  handful 
and  laid  the  others  before  Marta.  She  smiled  without 
speaking  and  bent  her  head  a  little. 

*  St.  Petersburg. 
10 


"  Little  idiot !  "  thought  Peredonov,  "  she  doesn't  even 
know  how  to  thank  one  properly." 

He  did  not  know  what  to  converse  about  with  Marta. 
She  had  no  interest  for  him,  like  all  objects  and  people 
with  which  he  had  no  well-defined  relations,  either 
pleasant  or  unpleasant. 

The  rest  of  the  beer  was  poured  into  Peredonov's  glass. 
Vershina  glanced  at  Marta. 

"  I'll  get  it,"  said  Marta. 

She  always  guessed  what  Vershina  wanted  without 
being  told. 

"  Send  Vladya — he's  in  the  garden,"  suggested  Ver- 
shina. 

"  Vladislav  !  "  shouted  Marta. 

"  Yes  ?  "  answered  the  boy  from  so  close  that  it 
seemed  as  if  he  had  been  listening  to  them. 

"  Bring  some  more  beer — two  bottles,"  said  Marta, 
"  they're  in  the  box  in  the  corridor." 

Vladislav  soon  came  back  noiselessly,  handed  the  beer 
to  Marta  through  the  window  and  greeted  Peredonov. 

"  How  are  you  ?  "  asked  Peredonov  with  a  scowl. 
"  How  many  bottles  of  beer  have  you  got  away  with 
to-day  ?  " 

Vladislav  smiled  in  a  constrained  way  and  said  : 

"  I  don't  drink  beer." 

He  was  a  boy  of  about  fourteen  with  a  freckled  face 
like  Marta's,  and  with  uneasy,  clumsy  movements  like 
hers.    He  was  dressed  in  a  blouse  of  coarse  linen. 

Marta  began  to  talk  to  her  brother  in  whispers.  They 
both  laughed.  Peredonov  looked  suspiciously  at  them. 
Whenever  people  laughed  in  his  presence  without  his 
knowing  the  reason  he  always  supposed  that  they  were 
laughing  at  him.  Vershina  felt  disturbed  and  tried  to 
catch  Marta's  eye.  But  Peredonov  himself  showed  his 
annoyance  by  asking  : 

"  What  are  you  laughing  at  ?  " 

Marta  started  and  turned  towards  him,  not  knowing 

11 


what  to  say.  Vladislav  smiled,  looking  at  Peredonov, 
and  flushed  slightly. 

"  It's  very  rude,"  said  Peredonov,  "  to  laugh  like  that 
before  guests.    Were  you  laughing  at  me  ?  " 

Marta  blushed  and  Vladislav  looked  frightened. 

"  Oh  !  no,"  said  Marta.  "  We  weren't  laughing  at  you. 
We  were  talking  about  our  own  affairs." 

"  A  secret  ?  "  exclaimed  Peredonov  angrily.  "  It  is 
rude  to  discuss  secrets  before  guests." 

"  It  isn't  at  all  a  secret,"  said  Marta,  "  but  we  laughed 
because  Vladya  hasn't  all  his  clothes  on  and  feels  bashful 
about  coming  in." 

Peredonov  was  mollified  and  began  to  think  of  jokes 
about  Vladya  and  presently  gave  him  a  caramel. 

"  Marta,  bring  me  my  black  shawl,"  said  Vershina. 
"  And  at  the  same  time  look  into  the  oven  to  see  how 
that  pie's  getting  on." 

Marta  went  out  obediently.  She  understood  that 
Vershina  wanted  to  talk  with  Peredonov,  and  felt  glad  of 
the  respite. 

"  And  you  run  away  and  play,  Vladya,"  said  Vershina, 
"  there's  nothing  for  you  to  chatter  about  here." 

Vladya  ran  off  and  they  could  hear  the  sand  crunching 
under  his  feet.  Vershina  gave  a  quick,  cautious  side- 
glance  at  Peredonov  through  the  clouds  of  cigarette  smoke 
she  was  ceaselessly  puffing  out.  Peredonov  sat  solemnly 
and  gazed  straight  in  front  in  a  befogged  sort  of  way  and 
chewed  a  caramel.  He  felt  pleased  because  the  others 
had  gone — otherwise  they  might  have  laughed  again. 
Though  he  was  quite  certain  that  they  had  not  been 
laughing  at  him,  the  annoyance  remained — just  as  after 
contact  with  stinging  nettles  the  pain  remains  and  in- 
creases even  though  the  nettles  are  left  behind. 

"  Why  don't  you  get  married  ?  "  said  Vershina  very 
abruptly,  "  What  are  you  waiting  for,  Ardalyon  Borisitch. 
You  must  forgive  me  if  I  speak  frankly,  but  Varvara  is 
not  good  enough  for  you." 

12 


Peredonov  passed  his  hand  over  his  slightly  ruffled 
chestnut-brown  hair  and  announced  with  a  surly  dignity  : 

"  There  is  no  one  here  good  enough  for  me!" 

;'  Don't  say  that,"  replied  Vershina,  with  a  wry  smile. 
'  There  are  plenty  of  girls  better  than  she  is  here  and 
every  one  of  them  would  marry  you." 

She  knocked  the  ash  off  her  cigarette  with  a  decisive 
movement  as  if  she  were  emphasising  her  remark  with  an 
exclamation  point. 

;'  Everyone  wouldn't  suit  me,"  retorted  Peredonov. 
'  We're    not    discussing    everyone,"     said    Vershina 
quickly,  "  you're  not  the  kind  of  man  who'd  run  after  a 
dot  if  the  girl  were  a  fine  girl.     You  yourself  earn  quite 
enough,  thank  God." 

''  No,"  replied  Peredonov,  "  it  would  be  more  of  an 
advantage  for  me  to  marry  Varvara.  The  Princess  has 
promised  her  patronage.  She  will  give  me  a  good  billet," 
he  went  on  with  grave  animation. 

Vershina  smiled  faintly.  Her  entire  wrinkled  face, 
dark  as  if  saturated  with  tobacco  smoke,  expressed  a 
condescending  incredulousness.     She  asked  : 

'  Did  the  Princess  herself  tell  you  this  ?  "  She  laid  an 
emphasis  on  the  word  "  you." 

"  Not  me,  but  Varvara,"  admitted  Peredonov.  "  But 
it  comes  to  the  same  thing." 

"  You  rely  too  much  on  your  cousin's  word,"  said 
Vershina  spitefully.  "  But  tell  me,  is  she  much  older 
than  you  ?  Say,  by  fifteen  years  ?  Or  more  ?  she  must 
be  under  fifty." 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Peredonov  angrily,  "  she's  not  yet 
thirty  !  " 

Vershina  laughed. 

"  Please  tell  me,"  she  said  with  unconcealed  derision. 
"  Surely,  she  looks  much  older  than  you.  Of  course,  it's 
not  my  business,  it's  not  my  affair.  Still,  it  is  a  pity  that 
such  a  good-looking,  clever  young  man  should  not  have 
the  position  he  deserves." 

13 


Peredonov  surveyed  himself  with  great  self-satisfaction. 
But  there  was  no  smile  on  his  pink  face  and  he  seemed 
hurt  because  everybody  did  not  appreciate  him  as 
Vershina  did. 

"  Even  without  patronage  you'll  go  far,"  continued 
Vershina,  "  surely  the  authorities  will  recognise  your 
value.  Why  should  you  hang  on  to  Varvara  ?  And 
none  even  of  the  Routilov  girls  would  suit  you  ;  they're 
too  frivolous  and  you  need  a  more  practical  wife.  You 
might  do  much  worse  than  marry  Marta  !  " 

Peredonov  looked  at  his  watch. 

"  Time  to  go  home,"  he  observed  and  rose  to  say 
good-bye. 

Vershina  was  convinced  that  Peredonov  was  leaving 
because  she  had  put  to  him  a  vital  question  and  that 
it  was  only  his  indecision  that  prevented  him  from 
speaking  about  Marta  immediately. 


14 


CHAPTER  II 

Varvara  Dmitrievna  Maloshina,  the  mistress  of 
Peredonov,  awaited  him.  She  was  dressed  in  a  slovenly- 
fashion,  and  her  face  was  powdered  and  rouged. 

Jam  tarts  were  being  baked  in  the  oven  for  lunch  : 
Peredonov  was  very  fond  of  them.  Varvara  ran  about 
the  kitchen  on  her  high  heels,  preparing  everything  for 
Peredonov's  arrival.  Varvara  was  afraid  that  Natalya, 
the  stout,  freckled  servant-maid,  would  steal  one  of  the 
tarts  and  possibly  more.  That  was  why  Varvara  did 
not  leave  the  kitchen  and,  as  she  habitually  did,  was 
abusing  the  servant.  Upon  her  wrinkled  face,  which  still 
kept  the  remains  of  beauty,  there  was  a  continual  expres- 
sion of  discontented  maliciousness. 

A  feeling  of  gloom  and  irritation  came  over  Peredonov, 
as  always  happened  when  he  returned  home.  He  entered 
the  dining-room  noisily,  flung  his  hat  on  the  window-sill, 
sat  down  at  the  table  and  shouted  : 

"  Vara  !    Where's  my  food  ?  " 

Varvara  brought  in  the  food,  skilfully  limping  in  her 
narrow,  fashionable  shoes,  and  waited  upon  Peredonov 
herself.  When  she  brought  the  coffee  Peredonov  bent 
down  to  the  steaming  glass  and  smelt  it.  Varvara  was 
disturbed  and  looked  a  little  frightened  ;    she  asked  : 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you,  Ardalyon  Borisitch  ? 
Does  the  coffee  smell  of  anything  ?  " 

Peredonov  looked  morosely  at  her  and  said  : 

"  I'm  smelling  to  see  whether  you  haven't  put  poison 
in  it  !  " 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you,  Ardalyon  Borisitch  ?  ' 
said  Varvara  again.     "  God  help  you,  how  did  you  get 
that  into  your  head  ?  " 

15 


"  You  mixed  hemlock  with  it,  perhaps,"  he  grumbled. 

"  What  could  I  gain  by  poisoning  you  ?  "  asked  Varvara 
reassuringly.    "  Don't  make  a  fool  of  yourself." 

Peredonov  continued  smelling  the  coffee,  but  eventually 
became  reassured. 

"  If  it  were  poison,"  he  said,  "  you'd  be  able  to  tell  by 
the  heavy  smell,  but  you  have  to  put  your  nose  right  into 
the  steam  !  " 

He  was  silent  a  while  and  then  suddenly  said,  spite- 
fully and  sarcastically  : 

"  The  Princess  !  " 

Varvara  looked  distressed. 

"  What  about  the  Princess  ?  "  asked  Varvara. 

"  The  Princess,"  he  said,  "  let  her  give  me  the  job  first 
and  then  I'll  get  married — you  write  her  that." 

"  But  you  know,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  Varvara  began 
in  a  persuasive  voice,  "  that  the  Princess  had  made  her 
promise  on  condition  that  I  marry  first.  Otherwise,  it  is 
awkward  for  me  to  ask  on  your  behalf." 

"  Write  her  that  we're  already  married,"  said  Pere- 
donov, rejoicing  in  his  sudden  inspiration. 

Varvara  was  for  a  moment  disconcerted,  but  quickly 
recovered  herself,  and  said  : 

"  What's  the  use  of  lying,  the  Princess  might  investi- 
gate. You'd  better  arrange  the  date  for  the  marriage ; 
it's  time  to  begin  making  the  dress." 

"  What  dress  ?  "  demanded  Peredonov,  gruffly. 

"  Could  anyone  get  married  in  these  rags  ?  "  shouted 
Varvara.  "  You  had  better  give  me  some  money, 
Ardalyon  Borisitch,  for  the  dress." 

"  Are  you  preparing  yourself  for  your  coffin  ?  "  asked 
Peredonov. 

"  You're  a  beast,  Ardalyon  Borisitch  !  " 

Peredonov  suddenly  felt  a  desire  to  provoke  her  still 
further.    He  asked  her  : 

"  Varvara,  do  you  know  where  I've  been  ?  " 
Where  ?  "  she  inquired  anxiously. 

16 


it 


"  At  Vershina's,"  he  said,  and  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Well,  you  were  in  nice  company,  I  must  say  !  " 

"  I  saw  Marta,"  Peredonov  continued. 

"  She's  covered  with  freckles,"  said  Varvara,  spite- 
fully. "  And  she's  got  a  mouth  that  stretches  from  ear 
to  ear.    You  might  as  well  sew  up  her  mouth,  like  a  frog's." 

"  Anyway,  she's  handsomer  than  you,"  said  Peredonov. 
"  I  think  I'll  take  her  and  marry  her." 

"  You  dare  marry  her,"  shouted  Varvara,  reddening 
and  trembling  with  rage,  "  and  I'll  burn  her  eyes  out  with 
vitriol !  " 

"  I'd  like  to  spit  on  you,"  said  Peredonov,  quite  calmly. 

"  Just  try  it !  "  said  Varvara. 

"  Well,  I  will,"  answered  Peredonov. 

He  rose,  and  with  a  sluggish  and  indifferent  expression, 
spat  in  her  face. 

"  Pig  !  "  said  Varvara,  as  quietly  as  if  his  spitting  on 
her  had  refreshed  her.  And  she  began  to  wipe  her  face 
with  a  table  napkin.  Peredonov  was  silent.  Latterly  he 
had  been  more  brusque  with  her  than  usual.  And  even 
in  the  beginning  he  had  never  been  particularly  gentle 
with  her.  Encouraged  by  his  silence,  she  repeated  more 
loudly  : 

"  Pig  !    You  are  a  pig  !  " 

Just  then  they  heard  in  the  next  room  the  bleating  of 
an  almost  sheep-like  voice. 

"  Don't  make  such  a  noise,"  said  Peredonov.  "  There's 
someone  coming." 

"  It's  only  Pavloushka,"  answered  Varvara. 

Pavel  Vassilyevitch  Volodin  entered  with  a  loud,  gay 
laugh.  He  was  a  young  man  who,  face,  manners  and  all, 
strangely  resembled  a  young  ram  ;  his  hair,  like  a  ram's, 
was  curly  ;  his  eyes,  protruding  and  dull ;  everything, 
about  him,  in  fact,  suggested  a  lively  ram — a  stupid 
young  man.  He  was  a  carpenter  by  trade.  He  had  first 
studied  in  a  Manual  Training  School,  but  now  was  an 
instructor  of  the  trade  in  the  local  school. 

C— LITTLE   DEMON  1  7 


"  How  are  you,  old  friend  ?  "  he  said  gaily.  "  You're 
at  home,  drinking  coffee,  and  here  am  I  !  Here  we  are 
together  again  !  " 

"  Natashka,  bring  a  third  spoon,"  shouted  Varvara. 

"  Eat,  Pavloushka,"  said  Peredonov,  and  it  was 
evident  that  he  was  anxious  to  be  hospitable  to  Volodin. 
"  You  know,  old  chap,  I  shall  soon  get  an  inspector's 
billet — the  Princess  has  promised  Vara." 

Volodin  seemed  pleased  and  laughed. 

"  And  the  future  inspector  is  drinking  coffee,"  he 
exclaimed,  slapping  Peredonov  on  the  back. 

"  And  you  think  it's  easy  to  get  an  inspector's  job," 
said  Peredonov.  "  Once  you're  reported,  that's  the  end 
of  you." 

"  And  who's  going  to  report  you  ?  "  asked  Varvara. 

"  There  are  plenty  to  do  that,"  said  Peredonov. 
"  They  might  say  I'd  been  reading  Pisarev.*  And  there 
you  are  !  " 

"  But,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  you  ought  to  put  Pisarev 
behind  your  other  books,"  advised  Volodin,  sniggering. 

Peredonov  glanced  cautiously  at  Volodin  and  said  : 

"  Perhaps  I've  never  even  had  Pisarev.  Won't  you 
have  a  drink,  Pavloushka  ?  " 

Volodin  stuck  out  his  lower  lip  and  made  a  significant 
face,  like  a  man  who  was  conscious  of  his  own  value,  and 
bent  his  head  rather  like  a  ram  : 

"  I'm  always  ready  to  drink  in  company,"  he  said, 
"  but  not  on  my  lonesome  !  " 

And  Peredonov  was  also  always  ready  to  drink.  They 
drank  their  vodka  and  ate  the  jam  tarts  afterwards. 

Suddenly  Peredonov  splashed  the  dregs  of  his  coffee- 
cup  on  the  wall-paper.  Volodin  goggled  his  sheepish 
eyes,  and  gazed  in  astonishment.  The  wall-paper  was 
soiled  and  torn.    Volodin  asked  : 

"  What  are  you  doing  to  your  wall-paper  ?  " 

*  Pisarev  (1840-68),  a  revolutionary  writer  and  a  precursor  of 
Nihilism. 

18 


Peredonov  and  Varvara  laughed. 

"  It's  to  spite  the  landlady,"  said  Varvara.  "  We're 
leaving  soon.    Only  don't  you  chatter." 

"  Splendid  !  '  shouted  Volodin,  and  joined  in  the 
laughter. 

Peredonov  walked  up  to  the  wall  and  began  to  wipe 
the  soles  of  his  boots  on  it.  Volodin  followed  his  example. 
Peredonov  said  : 

"  We  always  dirty  the  walls  after  every  meal,  so  that 
they'll  remember  us  when  we've  gone  !  " 

"  What  a  mess  you've  made  !  '  exclaimed  Volodin, 
delightedly. 

"  Won't  Irishka  be  surprised,"  said  Varvara,  with  a 
dry,  malicious  laugh. 

And  all  three,  standing  before  the  wall,  began  to  spit 
at  it,  to  tear  the  paper,  and  to  smear  it  with  their  boots. 
Afterwards,  tired  but  pleased,  they  ceased. 

Peredonov  bent  down  and  picked  up  the  cat,  a  fat, 
white,  ugly  beast.  He  began  to  torment  the  animal, 
pulling  its  ears,  and  tail,  and  then  shook  it  by  the  neck. 
Volodin  laughed  gleefully  and  suggested  other  methods 
of  tormenting  the  animal. 

"  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  blow  into  his  eyes  !  Brush  his 
fur  backwards  !  " 

The  cat  snarled,  and  tried  to  get  away,  but  dared  not 
show  its  claws.  It  was  always  thrashed  for  scratching. 
At  last  this  amusement  palled  on  Peredonov  and  he  let 
the  cat  go. 

"  Listen,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  I've  got  something  to 
tell  you,"  began  Volodin.  "  I  kept  thinking  of  it  all  the 
way  here  and  now  I'd  almost  forgotten  it." 

"  Well  ?  "  asked  Peredonov. 

"  I  know  you  like  sweet  things,"  said  Volodin,  "  and 
I  know  one  that  will  make  you  lick  your  fingers  !  " 

"  There's  nothing  you  could  teach  me  about  things  to 
eat,"  remarked  Peredonov. 

Volodin  looked  offended. 

19 


"  Perhaps,"  he  said,  "  you  know  all  the  good  things 
that  are  made  in  your  village,  but  how  can  you  know  all 
the  good  things  that  are  made  in  my  village,  if  you've 
never  been  there  ?  " 

And  satisfied  that  this  argument  clinched  the  matter, 
Volodin  laughed,  like  a  sheep  bleating. 

"  In  your  village  they  gorge  themselves  on  dead  cats," 
said  Peredonov. 

"  Permit  me,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  said  Volodin.  "  It 
is  possible  that  in  your  village  they  eat  dead  kittens.  We 
won't  talk  about  it.  But  surely  you've  never  eaten 
erli  ?  " 

"  No,  that's  true,"  confessed  Peredonov. 

"  What  sort  of  food  is  that  ?  "  asked  Varvara. 

"  It's  this,"  explained  Volodin,  "  You  know  what 
koutia*  is  ?  " 

"  Well,  who  doesn't  know  ?  "  said  Varvara. 

"  Well,  this  is  what  it  is,"  went  on  Volodin.  "  Ground 
koutia,  raisins,  sugar  and  almonds.    That's  erli.'''' 

And  Volodin  began  to  describe  minutely  how  they 
cook  erli  in  his  village.  Peredonov  listened  to  him  in  an 
annoyed  way. 

"  Koutia"  thought  Peredonov,  "  why  does  he  mention 
that  ?    Does  he  want  me  to  be  dead  ?  " 

Volodin  suggested  : 

"  If  you'd  like  to  have  it  done  properly,  give  me  the 
stuff,  and  I'll  cook  it  myself  for  you." 

"  Turn  a  goat  into  a  vegetable  garden,"  said  Peredonov, 
gravely. 

"  He  might  drop  some  poison-powder  into  it,"  thought 
Peredonov. 

Volodin  was  offended  again. 

"  Now  if  you  think,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  that  I  shall 
steal  some  of  your  sugar,  you're  mistaken.  I  don't  want 
your  sugar  !  " 

"  Don't  go  on  making  a  fool  of  yourself,"  interrupted 
*  A  kind  of  rice  pudding  eaten  at  funerals  in  Hussia, 

20 


Varvara.       '  You   know   how  particular   he  is.     You'd 
better  come  here  and  do  it." 

'  Yes,  and  you'll  have  to  eat  it  yourself,"  said  Pere- 
donov. 

'  Why  ?  '  asked  Volodin,  his  voice  trembling  with 
indignation. 

"  Because  it's  nasty  stuff." 

"  As  you  like,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  said  Volodin, 
shrugging  his  shoulders.  "  I  only  wanted  to  please  you, 
and  if  you  don't  want  it,  you  don't  want  it." 

'  Now  tell  us  about  the  reprimand  the  General  gave 
you,"  said  Peredonov. 

"  What  General  ?  "  asked  Volodin,  and  flushed  violently 
as  he  protruded  an  offended  lower  lip. 

"  It's  no  use  pretending.  We've  heard  it,"  said  Pere- 
donov. 

Varvara  grinned. 

;'  Excuse  me,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  said  Volodin, 
hotly.  "  Likely  enough  you've  heard  about  it,  but  you 
haven't  heard  the  right  story.  Now  I'll  tell  you  exactly 
what  happened." 

"  Fire  away,"  said  Peredonov. 

'  It  happened  three  days  ago,  about  this  time,"  began 
Volodin.  '  In  our  school,  as  you  know,  repairs  are  going 
on  in  the  workroom.  And  here,  if  you  please,  comes  in 
Veriga  with  our  inspector  to  look  around,  and  we  are 
working  in  the  back  room.  So  far,  good.  It  doesn't 
matter  what  Veriga  wanted  or  why  he  came — that's  no 
concern  of  mine.  Suppose  he  is  a  nobleman  ?  Still  he's 
no  connection  with  our  school.  But  that's  no  concern 
of  mine.  He  comes  in,  and  we  don't  take  any  notice  of 
him  and  go  on  working.  When  suddenly  they  come  into 
our  room,  and  Veriga,  if  you  please,  has  his  hat  on." 

"  That  was  an  insult  to  you,"  said  Peredonov. 

;'  But  you  must  know,"  interrupted  Volodin,  eagerly. 
''  There's  an  ikon  in  our  room,  and  we  had  our  hats  off. 
And  he  suddenly  appears  like  a  Mohammedan  dog.    And 

21 


I  up  and  said  to  him  quietly,  and  with  great  dignity  : 
'  Your  Excellency,'  I  say  to  him,  '  Will  you  be  good 
enough  to  take  your  hat  off,  because,'  I  say  to  him, 
'  there's  an  ikon  in  the  room.'  Now,  was  that  the  right 
thing  to  say  ?  "  asked  Volodin,  opening  his  eyes,  question- 
ingly. 

"  That  was  clever,  Pavloushka,"  shouted  Peredonov. 


"  He  got  what  he  deserved." 


Yes,  that  was  quite  proper,"  chimed  in  Varvara. 
"  People  like  that  shouldn't  be  let  off.  You're  a  smart 
young  fellow,  Pavel  Vassilyevitch." 

Volodin,  with  an  air  of  injured  innocence,  went  on  : 

"  And  then  he  says  to  me  :  '  Each  to  his  trade.'  Then 
he  turns  and  goes  out.  That's  all  there  was  to  it  and 
nothing  else." 

Volodin  nevertheless  felt  himself  a  hero.  Peredonov, 
to  mollify  him,  gave  him  a  caramel. 

A  new  visitor  arrived — Sofya  Efimovna  Prepolovens- 
kaya,  the  wife  of  the  forester,  a  fat  woman,  with  a  face 
half  good-natured,  half  cunning — brisk  in  her  move- 
ments.    She  sat  down  at  the  table  and  asked  Volodin 

slyty  : 

"  Pavel  Vassilyevitch,  why  do  you  come  so  often  to 
visit  Varvara  Dmitrievna  ?  " 

"  I  don't  come  to  visit  Varvara  Dmitrievna,"  answered 
Volodin  bashfully,  "  but  to  sec  Ardalyon  Borisiteh." 

"  You  haven't  yet  fallen  in  love  with  anyone  ?  "  asked 
Prepolovenskaya  with  a  laugh. 

Everyone  knew  Volodin  was  looking  for  a  wife  with  a 
dowry,  offered  himself  to  many  and  was  always  rejected. 
Prepolovenskaya's  joke  seemed  to  him  out  of  place.  In 
a  manner  resembling  that  of  an  injured  sheep,  he  said  in 
a  trembling  voice  : 

"  If  I  fell  in  love,  Sofya  Efimovna,  that  wouldn't 
concern  anyone  except  my  own  self  and  her.  And  in 
such  an  affair  you  wouldn't  be  considered." 

But  Prepolovenskaya  refused  to  be  suppressed. 

22 


"  Suppose,"  she  said,  "  that  you  fell  in  love  with 
Varvara  Dmitrievna,  who  would  make  jam  tarts  for 
Ardalyon  Borisitch  ?  " 

Volodin  again  protruded  his  lips  and  lifted  his  eyebrows. 
He  was  at  a  loss  what  to  say. 

"  Don't  be  faint-hearted,  Pavel  Vassilyevitch,"  Pre- 
polovenskaya  went  on.  "  Why  aren't  you  engaged  ? 
You're  young  and  handsome." 

"  Perhaps  Varvara  Dmitrievna  wouldn't  have  me," 
said  Volodin,  sniggering. 

"  Why  shouldn't  she  ?    You're  much  too  timid  !  " 

"  And  perhaps  I  wouldn't  have  her,"  said  Volodin,  in 
desperation.  "  Perhaps  I  don't  want  to  marry  other 
people's  cousins  ;  perhaps  I  have  a  cousin  of  my  own  in 
my  village." 

He  was  already  beginning  to  believe  that  Varvara 
would  marry  him.  Varvara  was  angry  ;  she  considered 
Volodin  a  fool,  and  moreover,  his  wages  were  only  three- 
quarters  of  Peredonov's. 

Prepolovenskaya  wanted  to  marry  Peredonov  to  her 
sister,  the  fat  daughter  of  a  priest.  That  is  why  she 
tried  to  create  a  quarrel  between  Peredonov  and  Var- 
vara. 

"  Why  are  you  trying  to  marry  us  ?  "  asked  Varvara, 
in  an  irritated  way.  "  You'd  better  try  to  marry  your 
little  fool  of  a  sister  to  Pavel  Vassilyevitch." 

"  Why  should  I  take  him  from  you  ?  "  said  Prepolo- 
venskaya, jokingly. 

Prepolovenskaya's  jests  gave  a  new  turn  to  Peredonov's 
slow  thoughts,  and  the  erli  had  already  taken  possession 
of  his  mind.  Why  did  Volodin  advise  such  a  dish  ? 
Peredonov  disliked  thinking.  He  believed  at  once  every- 
thing he  was  told  ;  that  was  why  he  began  to  believe 
that  Volodin  was  in  love  with  Varvara.  He  thought : 
they  would  entangle  Varvara,  and  then  when  he  left  for 
the  inspector's  job,  they  would  poison  him  on  the  way 
with  erlis,  and  Volodin  would  take  his  place  ;    he  would 

23 


be  buried  as  Volodin,  and  Volodin  would  become  inspector. 
A  clever  trick  ! 

There  was  a  sudden  noise  in  the  passage.  Peredonov 
and  Varvara  were  frightened.  Peredonov  fixed  his 
screwed-up  eyes  on  the  door.  Varvara  crept  up  to  the 
parlour  door,  looked  in,  then,  just  as  quietly,  on  tip-toe, 
balancing  her  arms  and  smiling  in  a  distracted  way, 
returned  to  the  table.  From  the  passage  came  a  noise 
and  shrill  outcries  as  if  two  people  were  wrestling.  Varvara 
whispered  : 

"  That's  Ershova,  frightfully  drunk.  Natashka  won't 
let  her  in  and  she's  trying  to  get  into  the  parlour." 

"  What  shall  we  do  ?  "  asked  Peredonov,  fearfully. 

"  I  suppose  we'd  better  go  into  the  parlour,"  decided 
Varvara,  "  so  that  she  shan't  get  in  here." 

They  entered  the  parlour  and  closed  the  door  tightly 
behind  them.  Varvara  went  into  the  passage  in  the  faint 
hope  of  restraining  the  landlady,  or  of  persuading  her  to 
sit  down  in  the  kitchen.  But  the  insolent  woman  kept 
pushing  her  way  in,  propped  herself  up  against  the  door- 
post and  poured  out  abusive  compliments  on  the  whole 
company.  Peredonov  and  Varvara  fussed  about  her  and 
tried  to  make  her  sit  down  on  a  chair  near  the  passage 
and  farther  from  the  dining-room.  Varvara  brought  her 
from  the  kitchen,  on  a  tray,  vodka,  beer  and  some  tarts, 
but  the  landlady  would  not  sit  nor  drink  anything  and 
kept  on  edging  towards  the  dining-room,  but  she  could 
not  exactly  find  the  door.  Her  face  was  red,  her  clothes 
were  disordered,  she  was  filthy  and  smelt  of  vodka,  even 
at  a  distance.    She  shouted  : 

"  No  !  You  must  let  me  sit  at  your  own  table.  I'll 
not  have  it  on  a  tray.  I  want  it  on  a  tablecloth.  I'm  the 
landlady  and  I  will  be  respected.  Never  mind  if  I'm 
drunk.  I'm  at  least  honest  and  a  good  wife  to  my 
husband." 

Varvara,  smiling  at  once  with  contempt  and  fear,  said  : 

"  Yes,  we  know." 

24- 


Ershova  winked  at  Varvara,  laughed  hoarsely  and 
snapped  her  fingers  defiantly.  She  became  more  and 
more  arrogant. 

"  Cousin  !  "  she  shouted.  "  We  know  the  sort  of 
cousin  you  are.  Why  doesn't  the  Head-Master's  wife 
come  to  see  you,  eh  ?  " 

"  Don't  make  so  much  noise,"  said  Varvara. 

But  Ershova  began  to  shout  even  louder  : 

"  How  dare  you  order  me  about  ?  I'm  in  my  own 
house  and  I  can  do  what  I  please.  If  I  like  I  can  have 
you  thrown  out  so  that  there'd  not  even  be  a  smell  of 
you  left  behind.    Only  I'm  too  kind-hearted." 

Meanwhile  Volodin  and  Prepolovenskaya  sat  timidly 
at  the  window  in  silence.  Prepolovenskaya  smiled 
slightly,  looking  at  the  shrew  out  of  the  corner  of  her  eye, 
but  pretended  that  she  was  looking  into  the  street. 
Volodin  sat  with  an  injured  expression  on  his  face. 

Ershova  eventually  became  more  good-humoured  and 
gave  Varvara  a  friendly  slap  on  the  shoulder,  saying  with 
a  drunken  smile  : 

"  Now  listen  to  me.  Put  me  at  your  table  and  treat 
me  like  a  lady.  Then  give  me  some  zhamochki,*  and 
treat  your  landlady  decently.    Come,  my  dear  girl  !  ' 

"  Here  are  some  tarts,"  said  Varvara. 

"  I  don't  want  tarts  !  "  shouted  Ershova.  "  I  want 
some  zhamochki."  And  she  waved  her  hands.  "  The 
masters  have  them,  and  I  want  some  too." 

"  I  haven't  any  zhamochki  for  you,"  answered  Varvara, 
growing  bolder  as  the  landlady  became  more  good- 
tempered.    "  Now  here's  some  tarts.    Gorge  yourself  !  " 

Ershova  suddenly  perceived  the  door  into  the  dining- 
room,  and  cried  out  furiously  : 

"  Out  of  my  way,  viper  !  " 

She  pushed  Varvara  aside  and  threw  herself  towards 
the  door.    There  was  no  time  to  restrain  her.    Lowering 

*  Zhamochki,  an  apparently  invented  word,  meaning  something 
particularly  nice  to  eat. 

25 


her  head  and  clenching  her  fists,  she  broke  into  the 
dining-room,  throwing  back  the  door  with  a  crash.  There 
she  paused  just  inside  the  door  and  saw  the  soiled  wall- 
paper. She  uttered  a  long  "  whew  "  of  astonishment. 
She  stood  with  her  hands  on  her  hips  and  her  legs  crossed, 
shouting  with  rage  : 

"  Then  it's  true  that  you're  leaving  !  " 

"  Who  put  that  into  your  head,  Irinya  Stepanovna  ?  ' 
said  Varvara,  trembling.     "  We've  no  such  idea.    Some- 
one's been  fooling  you." 

"  We're  not  going  anywhere,"  declared  Peredonov. 
"  We're  quite  contented  here." 

The  landlady  did  not  listen  to  them,  she  walked  up 
to  the  panic-stricken  Varvara,  and  shook  her  fist  in  her 
face.  Peredonov  got  behind  Varvara.  He  would  have 
run  away,  but  he  wanted  to  sec  if  Varvara  and  the  land- 
lady would  come  to  blows. 

"  I  will  step  on  one  of  your  legs,"  exclaimed  the 
landlady,  furiously,  "  and  tear  you  in  half  with  the 
other." 

"  Be  quiet,  Irinya  Stepanovna,"  said  Varvara,  per- 
suasively.   "  We  have  visitors." 

"  You  can  bring  your  visitors  along  too,"  said  the 
landladv.    "  I'll  do  the  same  to  them." 

She  reeled  and  made  a  dash  into  the  parlour,  and 
suddenly  changing  her  demeanour  and  tactics  she  said 
quietly  to  Prepolovenskaya,  bowing  so  low  before  her 
that  she  almost  fell  on  the  floor  : 

"  My  dear  lady,  Sofya  Efimovna,  forgive  a  drunken 
old  woman  ;  I  have  something  I'd  like  to  say  to  you. 
You  come  to  visit  these  people  and  yet  you  don't  know 
that  they're  gossiping  about  your  sister.  And  who  to, 
d'you  suppose  ?  Me  !  A  bootmaker's  drunken  wife  ! 
And  why  ?    So  I'd  tell  everyone — that's  why  !  ' 

Varvara  grew  purple  in  the  face  and  said  : 

"  I  said  nothing  of  the  sort." 

"  You  didn't  ?     Do  you  mean  to  deny  it,  you  mean 

26 


cat  ?  "  shouted  Ershova,  coming  up  to  Varvara,  with 
clenched  fists. 

"  Be  quiet,  will  you  ?  "  muttered  Varvara,  in  con- 
fusion. 

"  No,"  said  the  landlady,  spitefully,  "  I  won't  be 
quiet,"  and  she  turned  again  to  Prepolovenskaya.  "  Do 
you  know  what  she  says,  the  little  beast  ?  She  tried  to 
make  out  that  your  sister  is  carrying  on  with  your 
husband  !  " 

Sofya's  sly  eyes  gleamed  angrily  at  Varvara ;  she  rose 
and  said  with  a  feigned  laugh  : 

"  Thank  you  humbly,  I  didn't  expect  that." 

"  Liar  !  "  screamed  Varvara,  turning  on  Ershova. 

Ershova  gave  an  angry  exclamation,  stamped  her  foot, 
shook  her  hand  at  Varvara,  and  turned  again  to  Pre- 
polovenskaya. 

"  Yes,  and  do  you  know  what  he  says  about  you, 
ma'am  ?  He  makes  out  that  you  carried  on  before  you 
met  your  husband.  That's  the  sort  of  dirty  people  they 
are  !  Spit  in  their  mugs,  my  good  lady  !  It's  no  use 
having  anything  to  do  with  such  low  creatures  !  ' 

Prepolovenskaya  flushed,  and  went  silently  into  the 
passage.    Peredonov  ran  after  her,  trying  to  explain  : 

"  She's  lying,  don't  believe  her.  I  only  said  once 
before  her  that  you  were  a  fool  and  that  was  in  a  spiteful 
mood.  But  more  than  that,  honest  to  God,  I  never  said 
anything.    She  invented  it." 

Prepolovenskaya  reassured  him  : 

"  Don't  think  about  it,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  I  can  see 
myself  that  she's  drunk  and  babbling.  Only,  why  do 
you  permit  this  in  your  house  ?  " 

"  Well,  what's  to  be  done  with  her  ?  "  asked  Pere- 
donov. 

Prepolovenskaya,  confused  and  angry,  was  putting  on 
her  jacket.  Peredonov  did  not  offer  to  help  her.  He  kept 
on  mumbling  excuses,  but  she  paid  no  attention  to  him. 
He  returned  to  the  parlour.    Ershova  began  to  reproach 

27 


him  loudly,  while  Varvara  ran  out  on  the  verandah  to 
try  and  mollify  Prepolovenskaya  : 

"  You  know  yourself  what  a  fool  he  is,  he  sometimes 
says  anything  that  comes  into  his  head." 

"  All  right,  all  right !  Don't  mention  it,"  replied 
Prepolovenskaya.  "  A  drunken  woman  might  babble 
anything." 

Tall,  dense  nettles  grew  in  the  yard  near  the  verandah. 
Prepolovenskaya  smiled  slightly  and  the  last  shadow  of 
displeasure  vanished  from  her  plump  white  face.  She 
became  affable  again  towards  Varvara.  She  would  be 
revenged  without  an  open  quarrel.  Together  they  went 
into  the  garden  to  wait  until  the  landlady's  eruption  was 
over. 

Prepolovenskaya  kept  looking  at  the  nettles  which 
grew  in  abundance  along  the  garden  fence.  She  said  at 
last : 

"  You  have  enough  nettles  here.  Don't  you  find  any 
use  for  them  ?  " 

Varvara  laughed  and  answered  : 

"  What  an  idea  !    What  could  I  do  with  them  ?  " 

"  If  you  don't  mind,  I'd  like  to  take  some  with  me,  as 
I  haven't  any." 

"  What  will  you  do  with  them  ?  "  asked  Varvara,  in 
astonishment. 

"  Oh,  I'll  find  a  use  for  them,"  said  Prepolovenskaya, 
smiling. 

"  But,  my  dear,  do  tell  me  for  what  ?  '  entreated 
Varvara,  inquisitively. 

Prepolovenskaya,  bending  towards  Varvara,  whispered 
in  her  ear  : 

"  By  rubbing  your  body  with  nettles,  you  keep  fat. 
That's  why  my  Genichka  is  so  plump." 

It  was  well  known  that  Peredonov  preferred  fat  women, 
and  that  he  detested  thin  ones.  Varvara  was  distressed 
because  she  was  thin  and  was  growing  still  thinner.  How 
could  she  get  a  little  plumper  ? — was  one  of  her  chief 

28 


worries.  Sha  used  to  ask  everyone  :  "  Do  you  know  any 
remedy  for  thinness  ?  "  And  now  Prepolovenskaya  was 
convinced  that  Varvara  would  follow  her  suggestion  and 
rub  herself  with  nettles,  and  in  this  way  be  her  own 
punisher. 


ty 


CHAPTER   III 

Peredonov  and  Ershova  went  out  into  the  open.  He 
growled  : 

"  Come  this  way." 

She  shouted  with  all  her  might,  though  gaily.  They 
were  apparently  getting  ready  to  dance.  Prepoloven- 
skaya  and  Varvara  passed  through  the  kitchen  into  another 
room,  where  they  sat  down  at  the  window  to  see  what 
would  happen. 

Peredonov  and  Ershova  embraced  each  other,  and  began 
to  dance  around  the  pear  tree.  Peredonov's  face  re- 
mained dull  as  before  and  did  not  express  anything. 
Mechanically,  as  upon  an  automaton,  his  golden-rimmed 
spectacles  sprang  up  and  down  his  nose,  and  his  hair 
flopped  up  and  down  on  his  head.  Ershova  screamed, 
shouted,  waved  her  arms,  and  at  times  reeled. 

She  shouted  to  Varvara,  whom  she  espied  at  the 
window  : 

"  Hey  you,  don't  be  such  a  lady,  come  out  and  dance. 
Are  you  disgusted  with  our  company  ?  " 

Varvara  turned  away. 

"  The  deuce  take  you  !  I'm  dead  tired,"  shouted 
Ershova,  and  fell  back  on  the  grass,  drawing  down 
Peredonov  with  her. 

They  sat  a  while  in  each  other's  embrace,  then  got  up 
and  once  more  began  to  dance.  This  they  repeated 
several  times  :  now  they  danced,  now  they  rested  under 
the  pear  tree,  upon  the  bench,  or  simply  on  the  grass. 

Volodin  enjoyed  himself  thoroughly,  as  he  Avatehed 
the  dancers  from  the  window.  He  roared  with  laughter, 
made  extraordinarily  funny  faces,  and  bent  his  body  in 
two.    He  shouted  : 

30 


"  They're  cracked  !    How  funny  !  " 

"  Accursed  carrion  !  "  said  Varvara  angrily. 

"  Yes,  carrion,"  agreed  Volodin  with  a  grin.  "  Just 
wait,  my  dear  landlady,  I'll  show  you  something  !  Let's 
go  and  make  a  mess  in  the  parlour  too.  She  won't  come 
back  again  to-day  anyhow,  she'll  tire  herself  out  and  go 
home  to  sleep." 

He  burst  into  his  bleating  laughter  and  jumped  about 
like  a  great  ram.    Prepolovenskaya  encouraged  him  : 

"  Yes,  go  ahead,  Pavel  Vassilyevitch,  and  make  a 
mess.  We  don't  care  a  rap  for  her  !  If  she  does  come 
back  we  can  tell  her  that  she  did  it  herself  when  she  was 
drunk." 

Volodin,  skipping  and  laughing,  ran  into  the  parlour 
and  began  to  smear  and  rub  his  boots  on  the  wall-paper. 

"  Varvara  Dmitrievna,  get  me  a  piece  of  rope  !  "  he 
shouted. 

Varvara,  waddling  like  a  duck,  passed  through  the 
parlour  into  the  bedroom  and  brought  back  with  her  a 
piece  of  frayed,  knotted  rope.  Volodin  made  a  noose, 
then  stood  up  on  a  chair  in  the  middle  of  the  room  and 
hung  the  noose  on  the  lamp-bracket. 

"  That's  for  the  landlady,"  he  explained.  "  So  that 
when  you  leave  she'll  have  somewhere  to  hang  herself  in 
her  rage  !  " 

Both  women  squealed  with  laughter. 

"  Now  get  me  a  bit  of  paper  and  a  pencil,"  shouted 
Volodin. 

Varvara  searched  in  the  bedroom  and  discovered  a 
pencil  and  a  piece  of  paper. 

Volodin  wrote  on  it  :  "  For  the  landlady,"  and  pinned 
the  paper  on  the  noose.  He  made  ridiculous  grimaces  all 
the  time  he  was  doing  this.  Then  he  began  to  jump 
furiously  up  and  down  along  the  walls,  kicking  them 
every  now  and  again  with  his  boots,  shaking  with  laughter 
at  the  same  time.  His  squeals  and  bleating  laughter 
filled  the  whole  house.    The  white  cat,rputting  back  its 

31 


ears  in  terror,  peered  out  of  the  bedroom  and  seemed 
undecided  where  to  run. 

Peredonov  at  last  managed  to  disengage  himself  from 
Ershova  and  returned  to  the  house.  Ershova  really  did 
get  tired  and  went  home  to  bed.  Volodin  met  Peredonov 
with  uproarious  laughter  : 

"  We've  made  a  mess  of  the  parlour  too  !    Hurrah  !  ' 

"  Hurrah  !  "  shouted  Peredonov,  bursting  into  a  loud, 
abrupt  laugh. 

The  women  also  cried  "  Hurrah,"  and  a  general  gaiety- 
set  in.    Peredonov  cried  : 

"  Pavloushka  !    let's  dance." 

"Yes,  let's,  Ardalyosha !  "  replied  Volodin,  with  a 
stupid  grin. 

They  danced  under  the  noose  and  kicked  up  their  legs 
awkwardly.  The  floor  trembled  under  Peredonov's 
heavy  feet. 

"  Ardalyon  Borisitch's  got  a  dancing  fit,"  said  Pre- 
polovenskaya  with  a  smile. 

"  That's  nothing  new,  he  has  his  little  whims," 
grumbled  Varvara,  looking  admiringly  at  Peredonov 
nevertheless. 

She  sincerely  thought  that  he  was  handsome  and 
clever.  His  most  stupid  actions  seemed  to  her  perfectly 
fitting.    To  her  he  was  neither  ridiculous  nor  repulsive. 

"  Let's  sing  a  funeral  mass  over  the  landlady,"  shouted 
Volodin.    "  Fetch  a  pillow  here." 

"  What  will  they  think  of  next  ?  "  said  Varvara  laugh- 
ingly. 

She  threw  out  from  the  bedroom  a  pillow  in  a  dirty 
calico  slip.  They  put  the  pillow  on  the  floor  to  represent 
the  landlady  and  began  to  chant  over  it  with  wild  dis- 
cordant voices.  Then  they  called  in  Natalya,  and  made 
her  turn  the  ariston*  ;  all  four  of  them  began  to  dance  a 
quadrille  with  strange  antics,  kicking  up  their  legs. 

After  the   dance   Peredonov   felt   generous.     A   dim, 
*  A  musical  instrument. 
32 


morose  sort  of  animation  lit  up  his  plump  face  ;  he  was 
inspired  by  a  sudden,  almost  automatic  decision,  a  conse- 
quence, perhaps,  of  his  sudden  muscular  action.  He 
pulled  out  his  wallet,  counted  several  notes,  and  with  a 
proud  self-laudatory  expression,  threw  them  towards 
Varvara. 

"  Here  you  are,  Varvara  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Get 
yourself  a  wedding  dress  !  " 

The  notes  fluttered  across  the  floor.  Varvara  eagerly 
picked  them  up  ;  she  was  not  in  the  least  offended  at  the 
way  the  gift  was  made.  Prcpolovenskaya  thought  : 
'  Well,  we  shall  see  who's  going  to  have  him."  And  she 
smiled  maliciously.  Volodin,  of  course,  did  not  think  of 
helping  Varvara  to  pick  up  the  money. 

Soon  Prcpolovenskaya  left.  In  the  passage  she  met 
another  visitor,  Grushina. 

Marya  Ossipovna  Grushina  was  a  young  widow,  with  a 
prematurely  faded  appearance.  She  was  thin — her  dry 
skin  was  covered  with  small  wrinkles  which  looked  filled 
with  dust.  Her  face  was  not  unpleasant,  but  her  teeth 
were  black  and  unbrushed.  She  had  long  hands,  long 
grasping  fingers  and  dirty  finger-nails.  At  the  first 
glance  she  not  only  looked  dirty  but  gave  the  impression 
that  she  and  her  clothes  had  been  beaten  together.  It 
really  looked  as  if  a  column  of  dust  would  rise  up  into  the 
sky  if  she  were  struck  several  times  with  a  carpet  beater. 
Her  clothes  hung  upon  her  in  crumpled  folds  ;  she  might 
have  been  just  released  from  a  tightly-bound  bundle. 
Grushina  lived  on  a  pension,  on  petty  commissions,  and 
by  lending  money  on  mortgages.  Her  conversation  was 
mostly  on  immodest  lines,  and  she  attached  herself  to 
men  in  the  hope  of  getting  a  second  husband.  One  of 
her  rooms  was  always  let  to  some  one  among  the  bachelor 
officials. 

Varvara  was  pleased  to  see  Grushina.  She  had  some- 
thing to  tell  her.  They  began  to  talk  immediately  about 
the  servant-maid  in  whispers.     The  inquisitive  Volodin 

D— LITTLE   DEMON  33 


edged  closer  to  them  and  listened.  Peredonov  sat  morosely 
by  himself  in  front  of  the  table  crumpling  the  corner  of 
the  tablecloth  in  his  fingers. 

Varvara  was  complaining  to  Grushina  about  Natalya. 
Grushina  suggested  a  new  servant,  Klavdia,  and  praised 
her.  They  decided  to  go  after  her  at  once,  to  Samorodina 
where  she  was  living  in  the  house  of  an  excise  officer,  who 
had  just  been  transferred  to  another  town.  Varvara 
paused  when  she  heard  the  maid's  name ;  and  asked  in 
a  doubtful  voice  : 

"  Klavdia  ?  What  on  earth  shall  I  call  her, — 
Klashka  ?  " 

"  Why  don't  you  call  her  Klavdiushka  ?  "  suggested 
Grushina.    This  pleased  Varvara. 

"  Klavdiushka,  diushka  !  "  she  said  with  a  crackling 
laugh.  It  should  be  observed  that  in  our  town  a  pig  is 
called  a  "  diushka."  Volodin  grunted ;  everyone 
laughed. 

"  Diushka,  diushenka,"  lisped  Volodin  between  the 
laughter,  screwing  up  his  stupid  face  and  protruding  his 
underlip.  And  he  kept  on  grunting  and  making  a  fool  of 
himself  until  he  was  told  that  he  was  a  nuisance.  Then 
he  left  his  chair,  with  an  expression  of  injury  on  his  face, 
and  sat  down  beside  Peredonov.  He  lowered  his  large 
forehead  like  a  ram  and  fixed  his  eyes  on  a  spot  on  the 
soiled  tablecloth. 

On  the  way  to  Samorodina  Varvara  decided  that  she 
would  buy  the  material  for  her  wedding  dress.  She 
always  went  shopping  with  Grushina  who  helped  her  to 
make  selections  and  to  bargain. 

Unseen  by  Peredonov,  Varvara  had  stealthily  stuffed 
Grushina's  deep  pockets  with  sweets  and  tarts  and  other 
gifts  for  her  children.  Grushina  surmised  that  Varvara 
was  in  great  need  of  her  services. 

Varvara's  narrow,  high-heeled  shoes  would  not  allow 
her  to  walk  much.  She  quickly  became  fatigued.  It  was 
for  this  reason  that  she  usually  took  a  cab,  though  the 

34 


distances  in  our  town  are  not  great.  Latterly,  she  had 
frequented  Grushina's  house.  The  cabbies  had  noticed 
this,  for  there  were  only  about  a  score  of  them.  When 
Varvara  entered  a  cab  they  never  asked  her  where  she 
wanted  to  go. 

They  seated  themselves  in  a  drozhky  and  were  driven 
to  the  house  where  Klavdia  was  servant-maid,  in  order 
to  make  inquiries  about  her.  The  streets  were  dirty 
almost  everywhere  although  it  had  rained  only  the  day 
before.  The  drozhky  no  sooner  rattled  on  to  a  solid  paved 
part  of  the  road  than  it  plunged  again  into  the  clinging 
mud  of  the  unpaved  sections.  But,  by  way  of  com- 
pensation, Varvara's  voice  rattled  on  continuously,  now 
and  then  accompanied  by  Grushina's  sympathetic 
chatter. 

"  My  goose  has  been  to  Marfushka's  again,"  said 
Varvara. 

Grushina  answered  in  a  sympathetic  outburst  :  "  That's 
how  they're  trying  to  catch  him.  And  why  not,  he'd  be  a 
great  catch,  especially  for  Marfushka.  She  never  dreamt 
of  anyone  like  him." 

"  Really,  I  don't  know  what  to  do,"  confessed  Varvara. 
"  He's  become  so  obstinate  lately — it's  simply  awful. 
Believe  me,  my  head's  in  a  constant  whirl.  He'll  really 
marry  and  then  there's  nothing  for  me  but  the  streets." 

"  Don't  worry,  darling  Varvara,"  said  Grushina 
consolingly.  "  Don't  think  about  it.  He'll  never  marry 
anyone  but  you.    He's  used  to  you." 

"  He  sometimes  goes  off  in  the  evening,  and  I  can't 
get  to  sleep  afterwards,"  said  Varvara.  "  Who  knows  ? 
Perhaps  he's  courting  some  girl.  Sometimes  I  toss  about 
all  night.  Everyone  has  her  eye  on  him — even  those 
three  Routilov  mares  of  women — but  of  course  they'd 
hang  around  any  man's  neck.  And  that  fat  Zhenka's 
after  him  too." 

Varvara  went  on  complaining  for  a  long  time,  and  all 
her  conversation  led  Grushina  to  think  that  Varvara 

35 


had  some  favour  to  ask  of  her,  and  she  was  gratified  at 
the  prospect  of  a  reward. 

Klavdia  pleased  Varvara.  The  excise  officer's  wife 
strongly  recommended  her.  They  engaged  her  and  told 
her  to  come  that  evening,  as  the  excise  officer  was  leaving 
at  once. 

At  last  they  came  to  Grushina's  house.  Grushina 
lived  in  her  own  house  in  a  slovenly  enough  fashion. 
The  three  children  were  bedraggled,  dirty,  stupid  and 
malicious,  like  dogs  that  have  just  come  out  of  water. 

Their  confidences  were  just  beginning. 

"  My  fool,  Ardalyosha,"  began  Varvara,  "  wants 
me  to  write  to  the  Princess  again.  It's  a  waste  of 
time  to  write  to  her.  She'll  either  not  answer  or  she'll 
answer  unsatisfactorily.  We're  not  on  very  intimate 
terms." 

The  Princess  Volchanskaya,  with  whom  Varvara  had 
lived  in  the  past  as  a  seamstress  for  simple  domestic 
things,  could  have  helped  Peredonov,  since  her  daughter 
was  married  to  the  Privy-Councillor  Stchepkin,  who  held 
an  important  position  in  the  department  of  Education. 
She  had  already  written  in  answer  to  Varvara's  petitions 
in  the  past  year  that  she  could  not  ask  anything  for 
Varvara's  fiance,  but  she  might,  for  her  husband,  if  the 
opportunity  offered.  This  letter  did  not  satisfy  Pere- 
donov, since  it  expressed  merely  a  vague  hope,  and  did 
not  definitely  state  that  the  Princess  would  actually  find 
Varvara's  husband  an  inspector's  position.  In  order  to 
clear  up  this  doubt  they  had  lately  gone  to  St.  Peters- 
burg ;  Varvara  went  to  the  Princess  and  later  she  took 
Peredonov  with  her,  but  purposely  delayed  the  visit  so 
that  they  did  not  find  the  Princess  at  home  :  Varvara 
realised  that  at  best  the  Princess  would  merely  have 
advised  them  to  get  married  soon,  making  a  few  vague 
promises  which  would  not  have  satisfied  Peredonov. 
And  Varvara  decided  not  to  let  Peredonov  meet  the 
Princess. 

36 


"  I've  no  one  to  depend  upon  but  you,"  said  Varvara. 
"  Help  me,  darling  Mary  a  Ossipovna  !  " 

'  How  can  I  help,  my  dearest  Varvara  Dmitrievna  ?  " 
asked  Grushina.  "  Of  course  you  know  I'm  ready  to  do 
anything  I  can  for  you.  Shall  I  read  your  fortune  for 
you  ?  " 

Varvara  laughed  and  said  :  "I  know  how  clever  you 
are,  but  you  must  help  me  another  way." 

''  How  ?  "  asked  Grushina,  with  a  tremulous,  expectant 
pleasure. 

"  That's  very  simple,"  replied  Varvara.  "  You  write 
a  letter  in  the  Princess's  handwriting  and  I'll  show  it  to 
Ardalyon  Borisitch." 

"  But,  my  dear,  how  can  I  do  it  ?  "  said  Grushina, 
pretending  to  be  alarmed.  "  What  would  become  of  me 
if  I  should  be  found  out  ?  " 

Varvara  was  not  in  the  least  disconcerted  by  her 
answer,  but  pulled  a  crumpled  letter  out  of  her  pocket, 
saying  : 

"  I've  brought  one  of  the  Princess's  letters  for  you  to 
copy." 

Grushina  refused  for  a  long  time.  Varvara  saw  clearly 
that  Grushina  would  consent,  but  that  she  was  bargain- 
ing for  a  bigger  reward,  while  Varvara  wanted  to  give 
less.  She  gradually  increased  her  promises  of  various 
small  gifts,  among  them  an  old  silk  dress,  until  Grushina 
saw  that  Varvara  could  not  be  persuaded  to  give  any 
more.  A  stream  of  entreaties  poured  from  Varvara's 
mouth,  and  Grushina  finally  took  the  letter,  making  it 
appear  from  the  expression  of  her  face  that  she  did  so 
out  of  pity. 


o, 


CHAPTER  IV 

The  billiard-room  was  full  of  tobacco-smoke.  Pere- 
donov,  Routilov,  Falastov,  Volodin  and  Mourin  were 
there.  The  last  of  these  was  a  robust  landed  proprietor 
of  stupid  appearance  ;  he  was  the  owner  of  a  small  estate 
and  a  good  business  man.  The  five  of  them,  having 
finished  a  game,  were  preparing  to  go. 

It  was  dusk.  The  number  of  empty  beer  bottles  on 
the  soiled  wooden  table  was  increasing.  The  players  had 
drunk  a  good  deal  during  the  game ;  their  faces  were 
flushed,  and  they  were  getting  noisy.  Routilov  alone 
kept  his  usual  consumptive  pallor.  He  really  drank  less 
than  the  others  and  his  pallor  was  only  increased  by  heavy 
drinking. 

Coarse  words  flew  about  the  room.  But  no  one  was 
offended  ;   it  was  all  said  among  friends. 

Peredonov  had  lost,  as  nearly  always  happened.  He 
played  billiards  badly.  But  his  face  kept  its  expression 
of  unperturbed  moroseness  and  he  paid  his  due  grudg- 
ingly. 

Mourin  shouted  out : 

"  Bang  !  " 

And  he  aimed  his  billiard-cue  at  Peredonov.  Pere- 
donov exclaimed  in  fright  and  collapsed  into  a  chair. 
The  stupid  idea  that  Mourin  wanted  to  shoot  him  glim- 
mered in  his  dull  mind.  Everyone  laughed.  Peredonov 
grumbled  in  irritation  : 

"  I  can't  stand  jokes  like  that." 

Mourin  was  already  regretting  that  he  had  frightened 
Peredonov.  His  son  was  attending  the  gymnasia  and  he 
considered  it  his  duty  to  be  affable  to  the  gymnasia 
instructors.     He  began  to  apologise  to  Peredonov  and 

38 


treated    him    to    hock    and    seltzer.      Pcredonov    said 
morosely  : 

"  My  nerves  are  rather  unstrung.  I'm  having  trouble 
with  the  Head-Master." 

"  The  future  inspector  has  lost,"  exclaimed  Volodin 
in  his  bleating  voice.    "  He's  sorry  for  his  money." 

"  Unlucky  in  games,  lucky  in  love,"  said  Routilov, 
smiling  slightly  and  showing  his  decaying  teeth. 

This  was  the  last  straw.  Peredonov  had  already  lost 
money  and  had  a  fright  and  now  they  were  taunting  him 
about  Varvara. 

He  exclaimed  : 

"  I'll  get  married  and  then  Varka  can  clear  out !  ' 

His  friends  roared  with  laughter  and  continued  pro- 
voking him  : 

"  You  won't  dare  !  " 

"  Yes  I  will  dare  :    I'll  get  married  to-morrow  !  ' 

"  Here's  a  bet !  "  said  Falastov.  "  I'll  bet  ten  roubles 
he  doesn't  do  it !  " 

But  Peredonov  thought  of  the  money ;  if  he  lost  he 
would  have  to  pay.  He  turned  away  and  lapsed  into 
gloomy  silence. 

At  the  garden  gates  they  parted  and  scattered  in 
different  directions.  Peredonov  and  Routilov  went 
together.  Routilov  began  to  persuade  Peredonov  to 
marry  one  of  his  sisters  at  once. 

"  Don't  be  afraid.  I've  prepared  everything,"  he 
assured  Peredonov. 

"  But  the  banns  haven't  been  published,"  objected 
Peredonov. 

"  I  tell  you  I've  prepared  everything,"  argued  Routilov. 
"  I've  found  the  right  priest,  who  knows  that  you're  not 
related  to  us." 

"  There  are  no  bride-men,"  said  Peredonov. 

"  That's  quite  true,  but  I  can  get  them.  All  I  have  to 
do  is  to  send  for  them  and  they'll  come  to  the  church 
immediately.     Or  I'll  go  after  them  myself.     It  wasn't 

39 


possible  earlier,  your  cousin  might  have  found  out  and 
hindered  us." 

Peredonov  did  not  reply.  He  looked  gloomily  about 
him,  where,  behind  their  drowsy  little  gardens  and 
wavering  hedges,  loomed  the  dark  shapes  of  a  few  scat- 
tered houses. 

"  You  just  wait  at  the  gate,"  said  Routilov  per- 
suasively, "  I'll  bring  out  the  loveliest  one — whichever 
one  you  like.  Listen,  I'll  prove  it  to  you.  Twice  two  is 
four,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  assented  Peredonov. 

"  Well,  as  twice  two  is  four,  so  it's  your  duty  to  marry 
one  of  my  sisters." 

Peredonov  was  impressed.  "  It's  quite  true,"  he 
thought,  "  of  course,  twice  two  is  four."  And  he  looked 
respectfully  at  the  shrewd  Routilov.  "  Well,  it'll  come 
to  marrying  one  of  them.    You  can't  argue  with  him." 

The  friends  at  that  moment  reached  the  Routilovs' 
house  and  stopped  at  the  gate. 

"  Well,  you  can't  do  it  by  force,"  said  Peredonov 
angrily. 

"  You're  a  queer  fellow,"  exclaimed  Routilov. 
"  They've  waited  until  they're  tired." 

"  And  perhaps  I  don't  want  to  !  "  said  Peredonov. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  You  are  a  queer  chap. 
Are  you  going  to  be  a  shiftless  fellow  all  your  life  ?  "  asked 
Routilov.  "  Or  are  you  getting  ready  to  enter  a  monas- 
tery ?  Or  aren't  you  tired  of  Varya  yet  ?  Think  what  a 
face  she'll  make  when  you  bring  your  young  wife  home." 

Peredonov  gave  a  cackle,  but  immediately  frowned 
and  said  : 

"  And  perhaps  they  also  don't  want  to  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean — they  don't  want  to  ?  You  are 
an  odd  fellow,"  answered  Routilov,  "  I  give  you  my 
word." 

"  They'll  be  too  proud,"  objected  Peredonov. 

"  Why  should  that  bother  you  ?    It's  all  the  better." 

40 


"  They're  gigglers." 

"  But  they  never  giggle  at  your  expense,"  said  Routilov 
comfortingly. 

"  How  do  I  know  ?  " 

"  You'd  better  believe  me.  I'm  not  fooling  you. 
They  respect  you.  After  all  you're  not  a  kind  of  Pav- 
loushka,  who'd  make  anybody  laugh." 

"  Yes,  if  I  take  your  word  for  it,"  said  Peredonov 
incredulously.    "  But  no,  I  want  to  be  convinced  myself." 

"  Well,  you  are  an  odd  fellow  !  "  said  Routilov  in 
astonishment.  "  But  how  would  they  dare  laugh  at  you  ? 
Still,  is  there  any  way  I  can  prove  it  to  you  ?  " 

Peredonov  reflected  and  said  : 

'  Let  them  come  into  the  street  at  once." 

"  Very  well,  that's  possiblt,"  agreed  Routilov. 

"  All  three  of  them,"  continued  Peredonov. 

"  Very  well." 

;'  And  let  each  one  say  how  she'll  please  me." 

"  Why  all  this  ?  "  asked  Routilov  in  astonishment. 

"  I'll  find  out  what  they  want,  and  then  you  won't 
lead  me  by  the  nose." 

"  No  one's  going  to  lead  you  by  the  nose." 

"  Perhaps  they'll  want  to  laugh  at  me,"  argued  Pere- 
donov. "  Now  if  they  come  out  and  want  to  laugh,  it  is 
I  Avho'll  be  able  to  laugh  at  them  !  " 

Routilov  reflected,  pushed  his  hat  on  to  the  back  of 
his  head  and  then  forward  over  his  forehead,  and  said 
at  last  : 

"  All  right,  you  wait  here  and  I'll  go  in  and  tell  them — 
but  you're  certainly  an  odd  fellow.  You'd  better  come 
into  the  front  garden  or  else  the  devil'll  bring  someone 
along  the  street  and  you'll  be  seen." 

"  I'll  spit  on  them,"  said  Peredonov.  Nevertheless, 
he  entered  the  gate. 

Routilov  went  into  the  house  to  his  sisters  while  Pere- 
donov waited  in  the  garden. 

All  the  four  sisters  were  sitting  in  the  drawing-room, 

41 


which^was]  situated  in  the  corner  of  the  house  that  could 
be  seen  from  the  garden.  They  all  had  the  same  features 
and  they  all  resembled  their  brother ;  they  were  hand- 
some, rosy  and  cheerful.  They  were  Larissa,  a  tranquil, 
pleasant,  plump  woman,  who  was  married  ;  the  quick, 
agile  Darya,  the  tallest  and  the  slenderest  of  the  sisters  ; 
the  mischievous  Liudmilla,  and  Valeria  who  was  small, 
delicate  and  fragile-looking. 

They  were  eating  nuts  and  raisins.  They  were  ob- 
viously waiting  for  something  and  were  therefore  rather 
agitated  and  laughed  more  than  usual  as  they  recalled 
the  latest  town  gossip.  They  ridiculed  both  their  own 
acquaintances  and  strangers. 

Ever  since  the  early  morning  they  had  been  quite 
prepared  to  be  married.  It  was  only  necessary  for  one 
of  them  to  put  on  a  suitable  dress  with  a  veil  and  flowers. 
Varvara  was  not  mentioned  in  the  sisters'  conversation, 
as  though  she  did  not  exist.  But  it  was  sufficient  that 
they,  the  pitiless  gossips,  who  pulled  everyone  to  pieces, 
should  refrain  from  mentioning  Varvara ;  this  complete 
silence  showed  that  the  idea  of  Varvara  was  fixed  like  a 
nail  in  the  mind  of  each. 

"  I've  brought  him,"  announced  Routilov  entering 
the  drawing-room.  "  He's  at  the  gate."  The  sisters  rose 
in  an  agitated  way  and  all  began  to  talk  and  laugh  at  the 
same  time. 

"  There's  only  one  difficulty,"  said  Routilov  laugh- 
ingly. 

"  And  what's  that  ?  "  asked  Darya. 

Valeria  frowned  her  handsome,  dark  eyebrows  in  a 
vexed  way. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  to  tell  you  or  not,"  hesitated 
Routilov. 

"  Be  quick  about  it,"  urged  Dar}ra. 

Routilov  in  some  confusion  told  them  what  Peredonov 
wanted.  The  girls  raised  an  outcry  and  they  all  began 
to  abuse  Peredonov  ;  but  little  by  little  their  indignation 

42 


gave  place  to  jokes  and  laughter.  Darya  made  a  face  of 
grim  expectation  and  said  : 

"  But  he's  waiting  at  the  gate  !  " 

It  was  becoming  an  amusing  adventure. 

The  girls  began  to  peep  out  the  window  towards  the 
gate.    Darya  opened  the  window  and  cried  out : 

"  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  can  we  say  it  out  of  the  window?" 

The  morose  answer  came  back  : 

"  No  !  " 

Darya  quickly  slammed  down  the  window.  The 
sisters  burst  into  gay,  unrestrained  laughter,  and  ran 
from  the  drawing-room  into  the  dining-room  so  that 
Peredonov  might  not  hear  them.  The  members  of  this 
family  were  so  constituted  that  they  could  easily  pass 
from  a  state  of  the  most  intense  anger  into  a  state  of 
merriment,  and  it  was  the  cheerful  word  that  usually 
decided  a  matter. 

Peredonov  stood  and  waited.  He  felt  depressed  and 
afraid.  He  thought  he  would  run  away,  but  could  not 
decide.  Somewhere  from  afar  the  sounds  of  music 
reached  him :  the  frail,  tender  sounds  poured  themselves 
out  in  the  quiet,  dark,  night  air,  and  they  awoke  sadness, 
and  gave  birth  to  pleasant  reveries. 

At  the  beginning,  Peredonov's  reveries  took  on  an 
erotic  turn.  He  imagined  the  Routilov  girls  in  the  most 
seductive  poses.  But  the  longer  he  waited,  the  more 
irritated  he  became  at  being  forced  to  wait.  And  the 
music,  which  had  barely  aroused  his  hopelessly  coarse 
emotions,  died  for  him. 

All  around  him  the  night  descended  quietly,  and 
rustled  with  its  ill-boding  hoverings  and  whisperings. 
And  it  seemed  even  darker  everywhere  because  Pere- 
donov stood  in  an  open  space  lit  up  by  the  drawing-room 
lamp  ;  its  two  streaks  of  light  broadened  as  they  reached 
the  neighbouring  fence,  the  dark  planks  of  which  became 
visible.  The  trees  in  the  depth  of  the  garden  assumed 
dark,    suspicious,   whispering   shapes.     Someone's   slow, 

43 


heavy  footsteps  sounded  near-by  on  the  street  pavement. 
Pcredonov  began  to  feel  apprehensive  that  while  waiting 
here  he  might  be  attacked,  and  robbed,  even  murdered. 
He  pressed  against  the  very  wall  in  the  shadow,  and 
timidly  waited. 

But  suddenly  long  shadows  shot  out  across  the  streaks 
of  light  in  the  garden,  a  door  slammed,  and  voices  were 
heard  on  the  verandah.  Peredonov  grew  animated. 
"  They  are  coming,"  he  thought  joyously,  and  agreeable 
thoughts  about  the  three  beauties  stole  softly  once  more 
into  his  mind — disgusting  children  of  his  dull  imagina- 
tion. 

The  sisters  stood  in  the  passage.  Routilov  walked  to 
the  gate  and  looked  to  see  if  anyone  was  in  the  street. 
No  one  was  to  be  seen  or  heard. 

"  There's  no  one  about,"  he  whispered  loudly  to  his 
sisters,  using  his  hands  as  a  speaking-trumpet. 

He  remained  in  the  street  to  keep  watch.  Peredonov 
joined  him. 

"  They're  coming  out  to  speak  to  you,"  said  Routilov. 

Peredonov  stood  at  the  gate  and  looked  through  the 
chink  between  the  gate  and  the  gate-post. 

His  face  was  morose  and  almost  frightened,  and  all 
sorts  of  fancies  and  thoughts  expired  in  his  mind  and 
were  replaced  by  a  heavy,  aimless  desire. 

Darya  was  the  first  to  come  up  to  the  open  gate. 

"  What  can  I  do  to  please  you  ?  "  she  asked. 

Peredonov  was  morosely  silent. 

Darya  said  : 

"  I  will  make  you  the  crispest  pancakes  piping  hot- 
only  don't  choke  over  them." 

Liudmilla  cried  over  her  shoulder  : 

"  I'll  go  down  every  morning  and  collect  all  the  gossip 
to  tell  you.    That  will  make  us  jolly." 

Between  the  two  girls'  cheerful  faces  showed  for  a 
moment  Valeria's  slender,  capricious  face,  and  her  slight, 
frail  voice  was  heard  : 

44 


t( 


I  wouldn't  tell  you  for  anything  how  I  shall  please 
you — you'd  better  guess  yourself." 

The  sisters  ran  away  laughing.  Their  voices  and 
laughter  ceased  directly  they  were  in  the  house.  Pere- 
donov  turned  away  from  the  gate  ;  he  was  not  quite 
satisfied.  He  thought :  "  They  babbled  something  and 
then  ran  away."  It  would  have  been  far  better  if  they'd 
put  it  on  paper.  But  he  had  already  stood  here  waiting 
long  enough. 

"  Well,  are  you  satisfied  ?  "  asked  Routilov.  "  Which 
one  do  you  like  best  ?  " 

Peredonov  was  lost  in  thought.  Of  course,  he  concluded 
at  last,  he  ought  to  take  the  youngest.  A  young  woman 
is  always  better  than  an  older  one. 

"  Bring  Valeria  here,"  he  said  decisively. 

Routilov  went  into  the  house  and  Peredonov  again 
entered  the  garden. 

Liudmilla  looked  stealthily  out  of  the  window,  trying 
to  make  out  what  they  were  saying,  without  any  success. 
But  suddenly  there  were  sounds  of  someone  approaching 
by  the  garden  path.  The  sisters  kept  silent  and  sat 
there  nervously.    Routilov  entered  and  announced  : 

"  He's  chosen  Valeria,  and  he's  waiting  at  the  gate  !  " 

The  sisters  grew  noisy  at  once  and  began  to  laugh. 

Valeria  went  slightly  pale. 

"  Well,  well,"  she  said  ironically,  "  I  needed  him  very 
badly." 

Her  hands  trembled.  All  three  of  the  sisters  began  to 
fuss  about  her  and  to  put  finery  on  her.  She  always 
spent  a  lot  of  time  over  her  toilette — the  other  sisters 
hurried  her.  Routilov  kept  continually  babbling  with 
pleasure  and  excitement.  He  was  delighted  that  he  had 
managed  the  matter  so  cleverly. 

"  Did  you  get  the  cabbies  ?  "  asked  Darya  with  a 
worried  air.  Routilov  answered  with  slight  annoy- 
ance : 

How  could  I  ?     The  whole  town  would  have  heard 

45 


tt 


of  it.  Varvara  would  have  come  and  dragged  him  away 
by  his  hair." 

"  Well,  what  shall  we  do  ?  " 

"  Why,  we  can  go  to  the  Square  in  pairs  and  hire  them 
there.  It's  quite  simple.  You  and  the  bride  go  first. 
Then  Larissa  with  the  bridegroom — now,  mind  you,  not 
all  together  or  we  shall  be  noticed  in  town.  Liudmilla 
and  I  will  stop  at  Falastov's.  The  two  of  them  will  go 
together  and  I  will  get  Volodin." 

Once  alone  Peredonov  became  immersed  in  pleasant 
reveries.  He  imagined  Valeria  in  all  the  bewitchment  of 
the  bridal  night — undressed,  bashful  but  happy.  All 
slenderness  and  subtlety. 

He  dreamed,  and  at  the  same  time  he  pulled  out  of 
his  pocket  some  caramels  that  had  stuck  there  and  began 
to  chew  them. 

Then  he  remembered  that  Valeria  was  a  coquette. 
Now  she'll  want  expensive  dresses,  he  thought.  That 
meant  that  he  would  not  only  be  unable  to  save  money 
every  month  but  that  he  would  have  to  spend  what  he 
had  saved.  She  would  be  hard  to  please.  She  would 
never  even  enter  the  kitchen.  Besides,  his  food  might 
get  poisoned ;  Varvara,  from  spite,  would  bribe  the 
cook.  And  on  the  whole,  thought  Peredonov,  Valeria  is 
a  slender  doll.  It's  difficult  to  know  how  to  treat  a  girl 
like  that.  How  could  one  abuse  her  ?  And  how  could 
one  give  her  an  occasional  push  ?  How  could  one  spit  on 
her  ?  It  would  end  in  tears  and  she  would  shame  him 
before  the  whole  town.  No,  it  was  impossible  to  tie 
oneself  to  her.  Now  Liudmilla  was  simpler ;  wouldn't 
it  be  better  to  take  her  ? 

Peredonov  walked  up  to  the  window  and  knocked  with 
his  stick  on  the  pane.  After  a  few  moments  Routilov 
stuck  his  head  out  of  the  window. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  he  asked  anxiously. 

"  I've  thought  it  over,"  growled  Peredonov. 

"  Well  ?  "  exclaimed  Routilov  in  apprehension. 

46 


"  Bring  Liudmilla  here  !  "  said  Peredonov. 

Routilov  left  the  window. 

"  He's  a  devil  in  spectacles,"  he  grumbled  to  himself 
and  went  to  his  sisters. 

Valeria  was  glad. 

"  It's  your  happiness,  Liudmilla,"  she  said  cheerfully. 

Liudmilla  began  to  laugh.  She  threw  herself  back  in 
a  chair  and  laughed  and  laughed. 

"  What  shall  I  tell  him  ?  "  asked  Routilov.  "  Are 
you  willing  ?  " 

Liudmilla  could  not  speak  for  laughing,  and  only 
waved  her  hands. 

"  Of  course  she's  willing,"  said  Darya  for  her.  "  You'd 
better  tell  him  at  once,  or  else  he  may  go  off  in  a  huff." 

Routilov  entered  the  drawing-room  and  said  in  a 
whisper  through  the  window  : 

"  Wait,  she'll  be  ready  at  once." 

"  Let  her  make  haste,"  said  Peredonov  angrily.  "  Why 
are  they  so  long  ?  " 

Liudmilla  was  soon  dressed.  She  was  entirely  ready  in 
five  minutes. 

Peredonov  began  to  think  about  her.  She  was  cheerful 
and  plump.  But  she  was  a  giggler.  She  would  always  be 
laughing  at  him.  That  was  terrible.  Darya,  though  she 
was  lively,  was  more  sober.  But  she  was  quite  handsome. 
He  had  better  take  her. 

He  knocked  once  more  on  the  window. 

"  There  !  he's  knocking  again,"  said  Larissa.  "  I 
wonder  if  he  wants  you  now,  Darya  ?  " 

"  The  devil  !  "  said  Routilov  irritatedly,  and  ran  to 
the  window. 

"  What  now  ?  "  he  asked  in  an  angry  whisper.  "  Have 
you  thought  it  over  again  ?  " 

"  Bring  Darya,"  answered  Peredonov. 

"  Well,  just  wait !  "  whispered  Routilov  in  a  rage. 

Peredonov  stood  there  and  thought  of  Darya,  and  again 
his  brief  seductive  vision  of  her  was  replaced  by  appre- 

47 


hension.  She  was  too  quick  and  impertinent.  She  would 
make  life  intolerable  to  him.  "And  what  on  earth's  the 
good  of  standing  here  waiting,"  reflected  Pcredonov,  "  I 
might  get  a  cold.  And  you  can't  tell,  there  may  be  some- 
one hiding  in  the  ditch  or  behind  the  grass,  who'll 
suddenly  jump  out  and  murder  me."  Percdonov  grew  very 
depressed.  Then  again  none  of  them  had  any  dowry  to 
speak  of.  That  could  command  no  patronage  in  the 
department  of  Education.  Varvara  would  complain  to 
the  Princess.  As  it  was  the  Head-Master  was  sharpening 
his  teeth  for  Peredonov. 

Percdonov  began  to  get  vexed  with  himself.  Why  was 
he  here,  entangling  himself  with  the  Routilovs  ?  It 
must  be  that  Routilov  had  bewitched  him.  Yes,  he  must 
really  have  bewitched  him  !  He  must  make  a  counter- 
charm  at  once. 

Peredonov  twirled  round  on  his  heels,  spat  on  each 
side  of  him  and  mumbled  : 

"  Chure  -  churashki.  Churki-balvashki,  buki  -  bukashki, 
vedi-tarakashki.  Chure  menya.  Chure  menya.  Chure, 
chure,  chure.     Chure-'perechure-raschurc"* 

His  face  wore  an  expression  of  stern  attention,  as  if  at 
the  carrying  out  of  a  dignified  ceremony.  After  this 
indispensable  action  he  felt  himself  out  of  danger  of 
Routilov's  spells.  He  struck  the  window  decisively  with 
his  stick  and  muttered  angrily  : 

"  I've  had  enough  of  this  !  I  won't  be  enticed  any 
further.  No,  I  don't  want  to  get  married  to-day,"  he 
announced  to  Routilov,  whose  head  was  thrust  out  of 
the  window. 

"  What  on  earth's  the  matter  with  you,  Ardalyon 
Borisitch  ?  Why,  everything's  ready  !  "  said  Routilov 
persuasively. 

*  This  is  an  exaggeration  of  a  Russian  charm  used  against  witch- 
craft. The  word  "  chure  "  implies,  "  Hence  !  away  !  "  and  is  addressed 
to  the  evil  spirits.  The  whole  charm  is  a  jargon  practically  untrans- 
latable. 

48 


"  I  don't  want  to,"  repeated  Peredonov  with  decision. 
"  You'd  better  come  along  with  me  and  have  a  game  of 
cards." 

"  The  devil  take  you,"  exclaimed  Routilov. 

"  He  doesn't  want  to  get  married.  He's  funked  it  !  " 
he  announced  to  his  sisters.  "  But  I'll  persuade  the  fool 
yet.    He's  asked  me  to  play  cards  with  him." 

All  the  sisters  cried  out  at  once,  abusing  Pere- 
donov loudly. 

"  And  you're  going  out  with  this  blackguard  ?  "  asked 
Valeria  angrily. 

"  Yes,  and  I'll  get  even  with  him.  He  has  not  escaped 
us  yet  by  any  means,"  said  Routilov,  trying  to  keep 
a  tone  of  assurance,  but  feeling  very  awkward. 

The  girls'  anger  with  Peredonov  soon  gave  place  to 
laughter.     Routilov  left.     The  girls  ran  to  the  windows. 


it 


Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  exclaimed  Darya.  "  Why  can't 
you  make  up  your  mind.  You  shouldn't  do  things  like 
this  !  " 

"  Kislyai  Kislyaevitch  !  (Sour  Sourson  !)  "  exclaimed 
Liudmilla,  laughingly. 

Peredonov  was  angry.  In  his  opinion  the  sisters  ought 
to  have  wept  with  disappointment  that  he  had  rejected 
them.  "  They're  pretending,"  he  thought,  as  he  left 
the  garden  silently.  The  girls  ran  to  the  windows  facing 
the  street  and  shouted  gibes  after  him  until  he  was  lost 
in  the  darkness. 


E— LITTLE   DEMON  49 


CHAPTER  V 

Peredonov  felt  depressed.  He  had  no  more  caramels 
in  his  pocket  and  this  added  to  his  depression  and  distress, 
Routilov  was  the  only  one  to  speak  almost  the  whole 
way.  He  continued  to  laud  his  sisters.  Only  once  did 
Peredonov  break  into  speech,  when  he  asked  angrily  : 

"  Has  a  bull  horns  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes,  but  what  of  it  ?  "  asked  the  astonished 
Routilov. 

"  Well,  I  don't  want  to  be  a  bull,"  explained  Peredonov. 

"  Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  said  Routilov  in  tones  of  an- 
noyance, "  you  will  never  be  a  bull,  for  you  are  a  real 
swine." 

"  Liar,"  said  Peredonov  morosely. 

"I'm  not  a  liar — I  can  prove  I'm  not,"  said  Routilov 
spitefully. 

"  Go  ahead  and  prove  it." 

"  Just  wait,  I'll  prove  it,"  said  Routilov.  They  walked 
on  silently.  Peredonov  waited  apprehensively  and  his 
anger  with  Routilov  tormented  him.  Suddenly  Routilov 
asked : 

"  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  have  you  got  a  piatachek?  "* 

"  I  have,  but  I  won't  give  it  to  you,"  answered  Pere- 
donov.    Routilov  burst  out  laughing. 

"  If  you  have  a  piatachek,  then  you  are  a  swine,"  he 
exclaimed. 

Peredonov  in  his  apprehension  grabbed  his  nose  and 
exclaimed  : 

"  You're  lying  !  I  haven't  a  piatachek — I've  got  a 
man's  face,"  he  growled. 

*  "Piatachek"  means  a  "five  kopek  piece"  and  also  a  "pig's 
snout."    Routilov  puns  on  the  word. 

50 


Routilov  was  still  laughing.  Peredonov,  angry  and 
rather  frightened,  looked  cautiously  at  Routilov  and 
said  : 

"  You've  led  me  purposely  to-day  by  the  durman* 
and  you've  durmanised  me  so  as  to  lure  me  for  one  of 
your  sisters.  As  if  one  witch  wasn't  enough  for  me — 
you  tried  to  make  me  marry  three  at  once." 

"  You  are  a  queer  fellow.  And  why  didn't  I  get 
durmanised  ?  "  asked  Routilov. 

"  You've  got  some  way  or  other,"  said  Peredonov, 
"  perhaps  you  breathed  through  your  mouth  instead  of 
your  nose,  or  you  may  have  recited  a  charm.  For  my 
part,  I  don't  know  at  all  how  to  act  against  witchcraft. 
I  don't  know  much  about  black  magic.  Until  I  recited 
the  counter-charm  I  was  quite  durmanised." 

Routilov  laughed.  "  Well,  and  how  did  you  make  the 
exorcism  ?  "  he  asked. 

But  Peredonov  did  not  reply. 

"  Why  do  you  tie  yourself  up  with  Varvara  ?  "  asked 
Routilov.  "  Do  you  think  that  you'll  be  happier  if  she 
gets  the  inspectorship  for  you  ?  She'll  rule  the  roost 
then  !  " 

This  was  incomprehensible  to  Peredonov. 

After  all,  he  thought,  she  was  really  acting  in  her  own 
interests.  She  herself  would  have  an  easier  time  if  he 
became  an  important  official,  and  she  would  have  more 
money.  That  meant  that  she  would  be  grateful  to  him 
and  not  he  to  her.  And  in  any  case  she  was  more  con- 
genial to  him  than  anyone  else. 

Peredonov  was  accustomed  to  Varvara.  Something 
drew  him  to  her — perhaps  it  was  his  habit,  which  was 
very  pleasant  to  him,  of  bullying  her.  He  would  not 
find  another  like  her  however  much  he  sought. 

It  was  already  late.    The  lamps  were  lit  at  Peredonov's 

*  Durman,  the  thorn  apple  or  datura,  a  very  poisonous  plant. 
The  Russians  have  a  verb  "  durmanised,"  meaning  bewitched  or 
stupefied  by  the  durman. 


house ;  the  lighted  windows  were  conspicuous  in  the 
dark  street.  The  tea-table  was  surrounded  with  visitors  : 
Grushina — who  now  visited  Varvara  every  day — Volodin, 
Prepolovenskaya,  and  her  husband  Konstantin  Petrovitch, 
a  tall  man,  under  forty,  with  a  dull,  pale  face  and  black 
hair,  a  person  of  an  amazing  taciturnity.  Varvara  was 
in  a  white  party  dress.  They  were  drinking  tea,  and 
talking.  Varvara,  as  usual,  was  distressed  because 
Peredonov  had  not  yet  returned  home.  Volodin,  with 
his  cheerful  bleat,  was  telling  her  that  Peredonov  had 
gone  off  somewhere  with  Routilov.  This  only  increased 
her  distress. 

At  last  Peredonov  appeared  with  Routilov.  They 
were  met  with  outcries,  laughter,  stupid  coarse  jokes. 

"  Varvara,  where's  the  vodka  ?  "  exclaimed  Peredonov 
gruffly. 

Varvara  quickly  left  the  table,  smiling  guiltily,  and 
brought  the  vodka  in  a  decanter  of  rudely  cut  glass. 

"  Let's  have  a  drink,"  was  Peredonov's  surly  invita- 
tion. 

"  Just  wait,"  said  Varvara  ;  "  Klavdiushka  will  bring 
the  zakouska.*  You  great  lump,"  she  shouted  into  the 
kitchen,  "  hurry  up  !  " 

But  Peredonov  was  already  pouring  the  liquor  into 
the  vodka  glasses.     He  growled  : 

"  Why  should  we  wait  ?    Time  doesn't  wait !  ' 

They  drank  their  vodka  and  helped  it  down  with  tarts 
filled  with  black  currant  jam.  Peredonov  had  always 
two  stock  entertainments  for  visitors — cards  and  vodka. 
But  as  they  could  not  sit  down  to  cards  before  the  tea 
was  served,  only  vodka  remained.  In  the  meantime 
the  zakouska  also  were  brought  in  so  that  they  could 
drink  some  more  vodka.  Klavdia  did  not  shut  the  door 
when  she  went  out,  which  put  Peredonov  into  a  bad 
humour. 

*  Zakouska,  savoury  salt  eatables,  rather  like  hors  iVoeitvres,  eaten 
with  vodka. 

5? 


"  That  door  is  never  shut !  "  he  growled. 
He  was  afraid  of  the  draught — he  might  catch  cold. 
This  was  why  his  house  was  always  stuffy  and  malo- 
dorous. 

Prepolovenskaya  picked  up  an  egg. 
"  Fine  eggs  !  "  she  said.    "  Where  do  you  get  them  ?  " 
Peredonov  replied  : 

"  They're  not  bad,  but  on  my  father's  estate  there  was 
a  hen  that  laid  two  large  eggs  every  day  all  the  year 
round." 

"  That's  nothing  to  boast  of,"  said  Prepolovenskaya ; 
"  now  in  our  village  there  was  a  hen  that  laid  two  eggs 
every  day  and  a  spoonful  of  butter." 

"  Yes,  yes,  we  had  one  like  that  too,"  said  Peredonov, 
not  noticing  that  he  was  being  made  fun  of.  "  If  others 
could  do  it,  ours  did  it  too.  We  had  an  exceptional 
hen." 

Varvara  laughed. 

"  They're  having  a  little  joke,"  she  said. 
"  Such    nonsense    makes    one's    ears    wither !  '     said 
Grushina. 

Peredonov  looked  at  her  savagely  and  replied  : 
"  If  your  ears  wither  they'll  have  to  be  pulled  off  !  ' 
Grushina  was  disconcerted. 

"  Well,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  you're  always  saying  some- 
thing nasty,"  she  complained. 

The  others  laughed  appreciatively.  Volodin  opened 
his  eyes  wide,  twitched  his  forehead  and  explained  : 

"  WThen  your  ears  start  withering  it's  best  to  pull  them 
off,  because  if  you  don't  they'll  dangle  and  swing  to  and 
fro." 

Volodin  made  a  gesture  with  his  fingers  to  indicate 
how  the  withered  ears  would  dangle.  Grushina  snapped 
at  him  : 

"  That's  the  sort  you  are.     You  can't   make  a  joke 
yourself.    You  have  to  use  other  people's." 
Volodin  was  offended  and  said  with  dignity  : 

53 


It 


I  can  make  a  joke  myself,  Maria  Ossipovna,  but 
when  we're  having  a  pleasant  time  in  company,  why 
shouldn't  I  keep  up  someone  else's  joke  ?  And  if  you 
don't  like  it,  you  can  do  what  you  please.  Give  and 
take." 

"  That's  reasonable,  Pavel  Vassilyevitch,"  said  Routi- 
lov  encouragingly. 

"  Pavel  Vassilyevitch  can  stand  up  for  himself,"  said 
Prcpolovenskaya  with  a  sly  smile.  Varvara  had  just 
cut  off  a  piece  of  bread  and,  absorbed  by  Volodin's  in- 
genious remarks,  held  the  knife  in  the  air.  The  edge 
glittered.  Peredonov  felt  a  sudden  fear — she  might 
suddenly  take  it  into  her  head  to  slash  him. 

"  Varvara  !  "  he  exclaimed.    "  Put  that  knife  down  !  " 

Varvara  shivered. 

"  Why  do  you  shout  so  ?  You  frightened  me,"  she 
said,  and  put  the  knife  down.  "  He  has  his  whims,  you 
know,"  she  went  on,  speaking  to  the  silent  Prcpoloven- 
sky,  who  was  stroking  his  beard  and  apparently  about 
to  speak. 

"  That  sometimes  happens,"  said  Prepolovensky  ;  "I 
had  an  acquaintance  who  was  afraid  of  needles.  He  was 
always  imagining  that  someone  was  going  to  stick  a 
needle  into  him  and  that  the  needle  would  enter  his 
inside.  Just  imagine  how  frightened  he  would  get  when 
he  saw  a  needle " 

And  once  he  had  begun  to  speak  he  was  quite  unable 
to  stop,  and  went  on  telling  the  same  story  with  different 
variations  until  someone  interrupted  him  and  changed 
the  subject.    Then  he  lapsed  again  into  silence. 

Grushina  changed  the  conversation  to  erotic  themes. 
She  began  to  relate  how  her  deceased  husband  was 
jealous  of  her,  and  how  she  deceived  him.  Afterwards 
she  told  a  story  she  had  heard  from  an  acquaintance  in 
the  capital  about  the  mistress  of  a  certain  eminent 
personage  who  met  her  patron  while  driving  in  the 
street. 

54 


"  And    she    cries    to    him  :     '  Hullo,    Zhanchick  !  ' 
Grushina  related,  "  mind  you,  in  the  street." 

"  I  have  a  good  mind  to  report  you,"  said  Peredonov 
angrily.  "Is  it  actually  permitted  for  such  nonsense  to 
be  talked  about  important  people  ?  " 

Grushina  gabbled  rapidly  to  try  and  appease  him  : 

"  It's  not  my  fault.  That's  how  I  heard  the  story. 
What  I've  bought  I  sell." 

Peredonov  maintained  an  angry  silence  and  drank  tea 
from  a  saucer,  with  his  elbows  resting  on  the  table.  He 
reflected  that  in  the  house  of  the  future  inspector  it  was 
unbecoming  to  speak  disrespectfully  of  the  higher  powers. 
He  felt  annoyed  with  Grushina.  This  feeling  was  inten- 
sified by  his  suspicion  of  Volodin,  who  too  frequently 
referred  to  him  as  "  the  future  inspector."  Once  he  even 
said  to  Volodin  : 

"  Well,  my  friend,  I  see  that  you  are  jealous,  but  the 
fact  is  I'm  going  to  be  an  inspector  and  you  aren't  !  ' 

Volodin,  with  an  insinuating  look  on  his  face,  had 
replied  : 

"  Each  to  his  own.  You're  a  specialist  in  your  business 
and  I  in  mine." 

"  Our  Natashka,"  said  Varvara,  "  went  straight  from 
us  and  got  a  place  with  the  Officer  of  the  gendarmes." 

Peredonov  trembled,  and  his  face  had  an  expression 
of  fear. 

"  Are  you  telling  a  lie  ?"  he  demanded. 

"  Why  should  I  want  to  tell  you  a  lie  about  that  ?  ' 
answered  Varvara.    "  You  can  go  and  ask  him  yourself, 
if  you  like." 

This  unpleasant  news  was  confirmed  by  Grushina. 
Peredonov  was  stupefied  with  astonishment.  It  was  im- 
possible to  know  what  she  might  say,  and  then  the 
gendarmes  would  take  up  the  matter  and  report  it  to 
the  authorities.    It  was  a  bad  look-out. 

At  the  same  second  Peredonov's  eyes  rested  on  the 
shelf  under  the  sideboard.     There  stood  several  bound 

55 


volumes  :  the  thin  ones  were  the  works  of  Pisarev  and 
the  larger  ones  were  the  "  Annals  of  the  Fatherland."* 
Peredonov  went  pale  and  said  : 

"  I  must  hide  those  books  or  I  shall  be  reported." 

Earlier  Peredonov  had  displayed  these  books  osten- 
tatiously to  show  that  he  was  a  man  of  emancipated  ideas, 
though  actually  he  had  no  ideas  at  all  and  no  inclination 
towards  reflection.  And  he  only  kept  these  books  for 
show,  not  to  read.  It  was  now  a  long  time  since  he  had 
read  a  book — he  used  to  say  he  had  no  time — he  did  not 
subscribe  to  a  newspaper.  He  got  his  neAVs  from  other 
people.  In  fact  there  was  nothing  he  wanted  to  know — 
there  was  nothing  in  the  outside  world  he  was  interested 
in.  He  used  even  to  deride  subscribers  to  newspapers 
as  people  who  wasted  both  time  and  money.  One  might 
have  thought  that  his  time  was  very  valuable  ! 

He  went  up  to  the  shelf,  grumbling. 

"  That's  what  happens  in  this  town — you  may  get 
reported  any  minute.  Lend  a  hand  here,  Pavel  Vas- 
silyevitch,"  he  said  to  Volodin. 

Volodin  walked  towards  him  with  a  grave  and  com- 
prehending countenance  and  carefully  took  the  books 
that  Peredonov  handed  to  him.  Peredonov,  carrying  a 
heap  of  books,  went  into  the  parlour,  followed  by  Volodin, 
who  carried  a  large  pile. 

"  Where  do  you  mean  to  hide  them,  Ardalyon  Bori- 
sitch  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Wait  and  you'll  see,"  replied  Peredonov  with  his 
usual  gruffness. 

"  What  are  you  taking  away  there,  Ardalyon  Bori- 
sitch  ?  "  asked  Prepolovensky. 

"  Most  strictly  forbidden  books,"  answered  Peredonov 
from  the  door.  "  I  should  be  reported  if  they  were  found 
here." 

Peredonov  sat  on  his  heels  before  the  brick  stove  in 
the  parlour.     He  threw  down  the   books  on  the   iron 
*  A  journal  of  revolutionary  tendencies,  suppressed  in  1881. 

56 


hearth  and  Volodin  did  the  same.  Peredonov  began  with 
difficulty  to  force  book  after  book  into  the  small  opening. 
Volodin  sat  on  his  heels  just  behind  Peredonov  and  handed 
him  the  books,  preserving  at  the  same  time  an  air  of 
profound  comprehension  on  his  sheepish  face,  his  pro- 
truded lips  and  heavy  forehead  expressing  his  sense  of 
importance.  Varvara  looked  at  them  through  the  door. 
She  said  laughing  : 

"  They've  got  a  new  joke  !  " 

But  Grushina  interrupted  her  : 

"  No,  dearest  Varvara  Dmitrievna,  you  shouldn't  say 
that.  Things  might  be  very  unpleasant  if  they  found 
out.  Especially  if  it  happens  to  be  an  instructor.  The 
authorities  are  dreadfully  afraid  that  the  instructors  will 
teach  the  boys  to  rebel." 

After  tea  they  sat  down  to  play  Stoukolka  [a  card 
game],  all  seven  of  them  around  the  card-table  in  the 
parlour.  Peredonov  played  irritatedly  and  badly.  After 
every  twenty  points,  he  had  to  pay  out  to  the  other 
players,  especially  to  Prepolovensky,  who  received  for 
himself  and  his  wife.  The  Prepolovenskys  won  more 
frequently  than  anyone.  They  had  certain  signs,  like 
knocks  and  coughs,  by  which  they  told  each  other  what 
cards  they  held.  That  night  Peredonov  had  no  luck. 
He  made  haste  to  win  back  his  money,  but  Volodin  was 
slow  in  dealing  and  spent  too  much  time  in  shuffling. 

"  Pavloushka,  hurry  up  and  deal,"  shouted  Peredonov 
impatiently. 

Volodin,  feeling  himself  the  equal  of  anybody  in  the 
game,  looked  important  and  asked  : 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  '  Pavloushka  '  ?  Is  it  in 
friendship  ?    Or  how  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  in  friendship,"  replied  Peredonov  care- 
lessly.   "  Only  deal  quicker." 

"  Well,  if  you  say  it  in  friendship  then  I'm  glad,  very 
glad,"  said  Volodin,  laughing  happily  and  stupidly  as  he 
dealt  the  cards.     "  You're  a  good  fellow,  Ardasha,  and 

57 


I'm  very  fond  of  you.  But  if  it  weren't  in  friendship  it 
would  be  another  matter,  but  as  it  is  in  friendship  I'm 
glad.  I've  given  you  an  ace  for  it,"  said  Volodin  and 
turned  up  trumps. 

Peredonov  actually  had  an  ace,  but  it  wasn't  the  ace 
of  trumps  and  he  had  to  sacrifice  it. 

Routilov  babbled  on  incessantly ;  told  all  sorts  of  tales 
and  anecdotes,  some  of  an  exceedingly  indelicate  character. 
In  order  to  annoy  Peredonov,  Routilov  began  to  tell  him 
that  his  older  pupils  were  behaving  very  badly,  especially 
those  who  lived  in  apartments  :  they  smoked,  drank 
vodka  and  ran  after  girls.  Peredonov  believed  him,  and 
Grushina  confirmed  what  Routilov  said.  These  stories 
gave  her  especial  pleasure  :  she  herself,  after  her  husband's 
death,  had  wanted  to  board  three  or  four  of  the  students 
at  her  house,  but  the  Head-Master  would  not  give  her 
the  requisite  permission,  in  spite  of  Percdonov's  recom- 
mendations— Grushina's  reputation  in  the  town  was  not 
very  good.  She  now  began  to  abuse  the  landladies  of 
the  houses  where  the  students  had  apartments. 

"  They're  bribing  the  Head-Master,"  she  declared. 

"  All  the  landladies  are  carrion  !  "  said  Volodin  with 
conviction  ;  "  take  mine,  for  instance.  When  I  took  my 
room,  mine  agreed  to  give  me  three  glasses  of  milk  every 
evening.    For  the  first  two  months  I  got  it." 

"  And  you  didn't  get  drunk  ?  "  asked  Routilov. 

"  Why  should  I  get  drunk  ?  "  said  Volodin  in  offended 
tones,  "  milk's  a  useful  product.  It's  my  habit  to  drink 
three  glasses  of  milk  every  night.  When  all  of  a  sudden 
I  see  that  they  bring  me  only  two  glasses.  '  What's  the 
meaning  of  this  ?  '  I  ask  ;  the  servant  says  :  '  Anna 
Mikhailovna  says  she  begs  your  pardon  because  the  cow, 
she  says,  doesn't  give  much  milk  now.'  What's  that  to 
do  with  me  ?  An  agreement  is  more  sacred  than  money. 
Suppose  their  cow  gave  no  milk  at  all — does  that  mean 
I'm  not  to  have  any  milk  ?  '  No,'  I  say.  '  If  there  is  no 
milk,  then  tell  Anna  Mikhailovna  to  give  me  a  glass  of 

58 


water.  I'm  used  to  three  glasses  and  I  must  have 
them.'  " 

"  Our  Pavloushka's  a  hero,"  said  Percdonov.  ''  Tell 
them  how  you  argued  with  the  General,  old  chap." 

Volodin  eagerly  repeated  his  story.  But  this  time  they 
laughed  at  his  expense.     He  stuck  out  an  offended  under- 

lip. 

After  supper  they  all  got  drunk,  even  the  women. 
Volodin  proposed  that  they  should  dirty  the  walls  some 
more.  They  were  delighted  :  almost  before  they  had 
finished  supper  they  acted  on  this  suggestion  and  amused 
themselves  prodigiously.  They  spat  on  the  wall-paper, 
poured  beer  on  it,  and  they  threw  at  the  walls  and  ceiling 
paper  arrows  whose  ends  were  smeared  with  butter,  and 
they  flipped  pieces  of  moist  bread  at  the  ceiling.  After- 
wards they  invented  a  new  game  which  they  played  for 
money  ;  they  tore  off  strips  of  the  wall-paper  to  see  who 
could  get  the  largest.  But  at  this  game  the  Prepolo- 
venskys  won  another  rouble  and  a  half. 

Volodin  lost.  Because  of  his  loss  and  his  intoxication 
he  became  depressed  and  began  to  complain  about  his 
mother.  He  made  a  dolorous  face,  and  gesticulating 
ridiculously  with  his  hand,  said  : 

"  Why  did  she  bear  me  ?  And  what  did  she  think  at 
the  time  ?  What's  my  life  now  ?  She's  not  been  a 
mother  to  me,  she  only  bore  me.  Because  whereas  a  real 
mother  worries  about  her  child,  mine  only  bore  me  and 
sent  me  to  a  charitable  home  when  I  was  a  mere  baby." 

"  Well,  you've  learnt  something  by  it — it  made  a  man 
of  you,"  said  Prepolovenskaya. 

Volodin  bent  his  head,  wagged  it  to  and  fro  and  said  : 

"  No,  what's  my  life  ?  A  dog's  life.  Why  did  she  bear 
me  ?    What  did  she  think  then  ?  " 

Peredonov  suddenly  remembered  yesterday's  erli. 
"  There,"  he  thought,  "  he  complains  about  his  mother, 
because  she  bore  him.  He  doesn't  want  to  be  Pavloushka. 
It's  certain  that  he  envies  me.    It  may  be  that  he's  think- 

59 


ing  of  marrying  Varvara  and  of  getting  into  my  skin." 
And  he  looked  anxiously  at  Volodin. 
He  must  try  to  marry  him  to  someone. 

At  night  in  the  bedroom  Varvara  said  to  Peredonov  : 

"  You  think  that  all  these  girls  who  are  running  after 
you  are  really  good-looking  ?  They're  all  trash,  and  I'm 
prettier  than  any  of  them." 

She  quickly  undressed  herself  and,  smiling  insolently, 
showed  Peredonov  her  rosy,  graceful,  flexible  and  beau- 
tiful body. 

Though  Varvara  staggered  from  drunkenness  and  her 
face  would  have  repelled  any  decent  man  with  its  flabby- 
lascivious  expression,  she  really  had  the  beautiful  body 
of  a  nymph,  with  the  head  of  a  faded  prostitute  attached 
to  it  as  if  by  some  horrible  black  magic.  And  this  superb 
body  was  for  these  two  drunken  and  dirty-minded  people 
merely  the  source  of  the  vilest  libidinousness. 

And  so  it  often  happens  in  our  age  that  beauty  is 
debased  and  abused. 

Peredonov  laughed  gruffly  but  boisterously  as  he  looked 
at  his  naked  companion. 

The  entire  night  he  dreamed  of  women  of  all  colours, 
naked  and  hideous. 

Varvara  believed  that  the  friction  with  nettles,  which 
she  applied  at  Prepolovenskaya's  advice,  helped  her.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  she  got  plumper  almost  at  once.  She 
asked  all  her  acquaintances  : 

"  It's  true,  isn't  it,  that  I'm  a  little  fuller  ?  " 

And  she  thought  that  now  Peredonov  would  surely 
marry  her,  seeing  that  she  was  plumper,  and  that  he 
would  receive  the  forged  letter. 

Peredonov's  expectations  were  far  from  being  so 
agreeable  as  hers.  He  had  become  convinced  some  time 
before  that  the  Head-Master  was  hostile  to  him — and  as  a 
matter  of  fact  the  Head-Master  considered  Peredonov 

60 


a  lazy,  incapable  instructor.  Peredonov  imagined  that 
the  Head-Master  told  the  boys  not  to  respect  him,  which 
it  is  obvious  was  an  absurd  invention  of  his  own.  But 
it  inspired  Peredonov  with  the  idea  that  he  must  be  on 
his  guard  against  the  Head-Master. 

From  spite  against  the  Head-Master  he  spoke  slight- 
ingly of  him  more  than  once  in  the  classes  of  the  older 
students.    This  pleased  many  of  the  students. 

Now  that  Peredonov  was  hoping  to  become  an  inspec- 
tor the  Head-Master's  attitude  towards  him  seemed  par- 
ticularly unpleasant.  Let  it  be  admitted  that  if  the 
Princess  should  so  desire,  her  protection  would  override 
the  Head-Master's  unfriendliness,  still  it  was  not  without 
its  dangers. 

And  there  were  other  people  in  the  town — as  Peredonov 
had  lately  noticed — who  were  hostile  to  him  and  wanted 
to  hinder  his  appointment  to  the  inspectorship.  There 
was  Volodin  ;  it  was  not  for  nothing  that  he  continually 
repeated  the  words,  "  The  future  inspector."  There  have 
been  occasions  when  people  have  assumed  another  man's 
name  with  great  profit  to  themselves.  Of  course,  Volodin 
would  find  it  difficult  to  impersonate  Peredonov,  but 
after  all  even  such  a  fool  as  Volodin  might  have  the  idea 
that  he  could.  It  is  certain  that  Ave  ought  to  fear  every 
evil  man.  And  there  were  still  the  Routilovs,  Vershina 
with  her  Marta,  and  his  envious  colleagues — all  equally 
ready  to  do  him  harm.  And  how  could  they  harm  him  ? 
It  was  perfectly  clear  they  could  vilify  him  to  the  authori- 
ties and  make  him  out  to  be  an  unreliable  man. 

So  that  Peredonov  had  two  anxieties  :  one,  to  prove 
his  reliableness  and  the  other  to  secure  himself  from 
Volodin — by  marrying  him  to  a  rich  girl. 

Peredonov  once  asked  Volodin  : 

"  If  you  like,  I'll  get  you  engaged  to  the  Adamenko 
girl,  or  are  you  still  pining  for  Marta  ?  Isn't  a  month  long 
enough  for  you  to  get  consoled  ?  " 

"  Why  should  I  pine  for  Marta  ?  "  replied  Volodin, 

61 


"  I've  done  her  a  great  honour  by  proposing  to  her,  and 
if  she  doesn't  want  me,  what's  that  to  me  ?  I'll  easily 
find  someone  else — there  are  as  good  fish  in  the  sea  as 
ever  came  out  of  it." 

"  Well,  but  Marta's  pulled  your  nose  for  you  nicely," 
said  Percdonov  tauntingly. 

"  I've  no  notion  what  sort  of  a  husband  they're  looking 
for,"  said  Volodin  with  an  offended  air.  "  They  haven't 
even  any  dowry  to  speak  of.  She's  after  you,  Ardalyon 
Borisitch." 

Peredonov  advised  him  : 

"  If  I  were  in  your  place  I  should  smear  her  gates  with 
tar." 

Volodin  grinned  and  calmed  down  at  once.    He  said  : 

"  But  if  they  catch  me  it  might  be  unpleasant." 

"  Hire  somebody  ;  why  should  you  do  it  yourself  ?  " 
said  Peredonov. 

"  And  she  deserves  it — honest  to  God  !  "  said  Volodin 
animatedly.  "  A  girl  Avho  won't  get  married  and  yet 
lets  young  fellows  in  through  the  window  !  That  means 
that  human  beings  have  no  shame  or  conscience  !  " 


6g 


CHAPTER  VI 

The  next  day  Pcredonov  and  Volodin  went  to  see  the 
Adamenko  girl.  Volodin  was  in  his  best  clothes  ;  he  put 
on  his  new,  tight-fitting  frock-coat,  a  clean-laundered 
shirt  and  a  brightly-coloured  cravat.  He  smeared  his 
hair  with  pomade  and  scented  himself — he  was  in  fine 
spirits. 

Nadezhda  Vassilyevna  Adamenko  lived  with  her 
brother  in  town  in  her  own  red-brick  house  ;  she  had  an 
estate  not  far  from  town  which  she  let  on  lease.  Two 
years  before  she  had  completed  a  course  in  the  local 
college  and  now  she  occupied  herself  in  lying  on  a  couch 
to  read  books  of  every  description  and  in  coaching  her 
brother,  an  eleven-year-old  schoolboy,  who  always  pro- 
tected himself  against  his  sister's  severities  by  saying : 

"  It  was  much  better  in  Mamma's  time — she  used  to 
put  an  umbrella  in  the  corner  instead  of  me." 

Nadezhda  Vassilyevna's  aunt  lived  with  her.  She  was 
a  characterless,  decrepit  woman  with  no  voice  in  the 
household  affairs.  Nadezhda  Vassilyevna  chose  her 
acquaintances  with  great  care.  Peredonov  was  very 
seldom  in  her  house  and  only  his  lack  of  real  acquaintance 
with  her  could  have  given  birth  to  his  idea  of  getting  her 
to  marry  Volodin.  She  was  therefore  extremely  astonished 
at  their  unexpected  visit,  but  she  received  the  uninvited 
guests  quite  graciously.  She  had  to  amuse  them,  and  it 
seemed  to  her  that  the  most  likely  and  pleasant  method 
of  entertaining  an  instructor  of  the  Russian  language 
would  be  to  talk  of  educational  conditions,  school  reform, 
the  training  of  children,  literature,  Symbolism  and  the 
Russian  literary  periodicals.  She  touched  upon  all  these 
themes,    but    received    no    response   beyond    enigmatic 

03 


remarks,  which  showed  that  these  questions  had  no 
interest  for  her  guests. 

She  soon  saw  that  only  one  subject  was  possible — 
town  gossip.  But  Nadezhda  Vassilyevna  nevertheless 
made  one  more  attempt. 

"  Have  you  read  the  '  Man  in  the  Case,'  by  Chekhov  ?  " 
she  asked.    "  It's  a  clever  piece  of  work,  isn't  it  ?  " 

As  she  turned  with  this  question  to  Volodin  he  smiled 
pleasantly  and  asked  : 

"  Is  that  an  essay  or  a  novel  ?  " 

"  It's  a  short  story,"  exclaimed  Nadezhda. 

"  Did  you  say  it  was  by  Mister  Chekhov  ?  "  inquired 
Volodin. 

"  Yes,  Chekhov,"  said  Nadezhda  and  smiled. 

"  Where  was  it  published  ?  "  asked  Volodin  curiously. 

"  In  the  '  Russkaya  Misl,'  "  the  young  woman  ex- 
plained graciously. 

"  In  what  number  ?  "  continued  Volodin. 

"  I  can't  quite  remember.  I  think  it  was  in  one  of  the 
summer  numbers,"  replied  Nadezhda,  still  graciously 
but  with  some  astonishment. 

A  schoolboy  suddenly  appeared  from  behind  the 
door. 

"  It  was  published  in  the  May  number,"  he  said,  with 
his  hand  on  the  door-knob,  glancing  at  his  sister  and  her 
guests  with  cheerful  blue  eyes. 

"  You're  too  young  to  read  novels  !  "  growled  Pere- 
donov  angrily.  "  You  ought  to  work  instead  of  reading 
indecent  stories." 

Nadezhda  Vassilyevna  looked  sternly  at  her  brother. 

"It  is  a  nice  thing  to  stand  behind  doors  and  listen," 
she  remarked,  and  lifting  her  hands  crossed  her  little 
fingers  at  a  right  angle. 

The  boy  made  a  wry  face  and  disappeared.  He  went 
into  his  own  room,  stood  in  the  corner  and  gazed  at  the 
clock ;  two  little  fingers  crossed  was  a  sign  that  he 
should  stand  in  the  corner  for  ten  minutes.     "  No,"  he 

64 


thought  sadly,  "  it  was  much  better  when  Mamma  was 
alive.    She  only  put  an  umbrella  in  the  corner." 

Meanwhile  in  the  drawing-room  Volodin  was  promising 
his  hostess  that  he  would  certainly  get  the  May  number 
of  the  "  Russkaya  Misl,"  in  order  to  read  Mister  Chekhov's 
story.  Peredonov  listened  with  an  expression  of  un- 
concealed boredom  on  his  face.    At  last  he  said  : 

"  I  haven't  read  it  either.  I  don't  read  such  nonsense. 
There's  nothing  but  stupidities  in  stories  and  novels." 

Nadezhda  Vassilyevna  smiled  amiably  and  said  : 

"  You're  very  severe  towards  contemporary  literature. 
But  good  books  are  written  even  nowadays." 

"  I  read  all  the  good  books  long  ago,"  announced 
Peredonov.  "  I  don't  intend  to  begin  to  read  what's 
being  written  now." 

Volodin  looked  at  Peredonov  with  respect.  Nadezhda 
Vassilyevna  sighed  lightly  and — as  there  was  nothing 
else  for  her  to  do — she  began  a  string  of  small-talk  and 
gossip  to  the  best  of  her  ability.  Although  she  disliked 
such  conversation  she  managed  to  keep  it  up  with  the 
ease  and  buoyancy  of  a  lively,  well-trained  girl.  The 
guests  became  animated.  She  was  intolerably  bored,  but 
they  thought  that  she  was  particularly  gracious  and  they 
put  it  down  to  the  charm  of  Volodin's  personality. 

Once  in  the  street  Peredonov  congratulated  Volodin 
upon  his  success.  Volodin  laughed  gleefully  and  skipped 
about.  He  had  already  forgotten  all  the  other  girls  who 
had  rejected  him. 

"  Don't  kick  up  your  heels  like  that,"  said  Peredonov. 
"  You're  hopping  about  like  a  young  sheep  !  You'd 
better  wait ;    you  may  have  your  nose  pulled  again." 

But  he  said  this  only  in  jest,  and  he  fully  believed  in 
the  success  of  the  match  he  had  devised. 

Grushina  came  to  see  Varvara  almost  every  day. 
Varvara  was  at  Grushina's  even  oftener,  so  that  they 
were  scarcely  ever  parted  from  each  other.    Varvara  was 

F— LITTLE  DEMON  65 


agitated  because  Grushina  delayed — she  assured  Varvara 
that  it  was  very  difficult  to  copy  the  handwriting  so  that 
the  resemblance  would  be  complete. 

Peredonov  still  refrained  from  fixing  a  date  for  the 
wedding.  Again  he  demanded  his  inspector's  post  first. 
Recollecting  how  many  girls  were  ready  to  marry  him,  he 
more  than  once,  as  in  the  past  winter,  said  to  Varvara 
threateningly  : 

"  I'm  going  out  to  get  married.  I  shall  be  back  in  the 
morning  with  a  wife  and  then  out  you  go.  This  is  your 
last  night  here  !  " 

And  having  said  this  he  would  go — to  play  billiards. 
From  there  he  would  sometimes  return  home,  but  more 
often  he  would  go  carousing  in  some  dirty  hole  with 
Routilov  and  Volodin.  On  such  nights  Varvara  could 
not  sleep.  That  is  why  she  suffered  from  headaches.  It 
was  not  so  bad  if  he  returned  at  one  or  two — then  she 
could  breathe  freely.  But  if  he  did  not  turn  up  till  the 
morning  then  the  day  found  Varvara  quite  ill. 

At  last  Grushina  had  finished  the  letter  and  showed  it 
to  Varvara.  They  examined  it  for  a  long  time  and  com- 
pared it  with  the  Princess's  letter  of  last  year.  Grushina 
assured  her  that  the  letter  was  so  like  the  other  that  the 
Princess  herself  would  not  recognise  the  forgery.  Although 
there  was  actually  little  resemblance,  Varvara  believed 
her.  She  also  realised  that  Peredonov  would  not  re- 
member the  Princess's  unfamiliar  handwriting  so  minutely 
that  he  would  see  it  was  a  forgery. 

"  At  last !  "  she  said  joyously.  "  I  have  waited  and 
waited,  and  I'd  almost  lost  patience.  But  what  shall  I 
tell  him  about  the  envelope  if  he  asks  ?  " 

"  You  can't  very  well  forge  an  envelope  ;  there's  the 
post-mark,"  said  Grushina  laughing  as  she  looked  at 
Varvara  with  her  cunning  unequal  eyes,  one  of  them 
wider  open  than  the  other. 

"  What  shall  we  do  ?  " 

"  Varvara  Dmitrievna  darling,  just  tell  him  that  you 

66 


threw  the  envelope  into  the  fire.  What's  the  good  of  an 
envelope  ?  " 

Varvara's  hopes  revived.     She  said  : 

"  Once  we're  married,  he  won't  keep  me  any  longer 
on  the  run.  I'll  do  the  sitting  and  he  can  do  the  running 
for  me." 

On  Saturday  after  dinner  Percdonov  went  to  play 
billiards.  His  thoughts  were  heavy  and  melancholy. 
He  thought  : 

"  It's  awful  to  live  among  hostile  and  envious  people. 
But  what  can  one  do — they  can't  all  be  inspectors  ! 
That's  the  struggle  for  existence  !  " 

At  the  corner  of  two  streets  he  met  the  Officer  of  the 
gendarmerie — an  unpleasant  meeting. 

Lieutenant-Colonel  Nikolai  Vadimovitch  Roubovsky, 
a  medium-sized,  stout  man  with  heavy  eyebrows,  cheerful 
grey  eyes,  and  a  limping  gait  which  made  his  spurs  jingle 
unevenly  and  loudly,  was  a  very  amiable  person  and  was 
therefore  popular  in  society.  He  knew  all  the  people  in 
town,  all  their  affairs  and  relations,  and  loved  to  hear 
gossip,  but  was  himself  as  discreet  and  silent  as  the 
grave,  and  caused  no  one  any  unnecessary  unpleasant- 
ness. 

They  stopped,  greeted  each  other  and  entered  into 
conversation.  Percdonov  looked  frowningly  on  each 
side  and  said  cautiously  : 

"  I  hear  that  our  Natasha  is  with  you  now.  You 
mustn't  believe  anything  she  tells  you  about  me,  because 
she's  lying." 

"  I  don't  listen  to  servants'  gossip,"  said  Roubovsky 
with  dignity. 

"  She's  really  a  bad  one,"  said  Percdonov,  paying  no 
attention  to  Roubovsky 's  remark ;  "  her  young  man  is  a 
Pole  ;  very  likely  she  came  to  you  on  purpose  to  get  hold 
of  some  official  secret." 

"  Please  don't  worry  about  that,"  said  the  Lieutenant- 

67 


Colonel  dryly.    "  I  haven't  any  plans  of  fortresses  in  my 
possession." 

This  introduction  of  fortresses  perplexed  Peredonov  ; 
it  seemed  to  him  that  Roubovsky  was  hinting  at  some- 
thing— that  he  thought  of  imprisoning  Peredonov  in  a 
fortress. 

"  It's  nothing  to  do  with  fortresses — it's  a  very  different 
matter,"  he  muttered.  "  But  all  sorts  of  stupid  things 
are  being  said  about  me,  for  the  most  part  from  envy. 
Don't  believe  any  of  them.  They're  informing  against 
me  in  order  to  get  suspicion  away  from  themselves,  but 
I  can  do  some  informing  myself." 

Roubovsky  was  mystified. 

"  I  assure  you,"  he  said,  shrugging  his  shoulders  and 
jingling  his  spurs,  "  that  no  one  has  informed  against 
you.  It  is  obvious  that  someone  has  been  pulling  your 
leg — people  of  course  will  talk  nonsense  sometimes." 

Peredonov  was  mistrustful.  He  thought  that  the 
Lieutenant-Colonel  was  concealing  something,  and  he 
suddenly  felt  a  terrible  apprehension. 

Every  time  that  Peredonov  walked  past  Vershina's 
garden,  Vershina  would  stop  him  and  with  her  bewitch- 
ing gestures  and  words  would  lure  him  into  the  garden. 
And  he  would  enter,  unwillingly  yielding  to  her  quiet 
witchery.  Perhaps  she  had  a  better  chance  of  succeeding 
in  her  purpose  than  the  Routilovs — for  was  not  Pere- 
donov equally  unrelated  to  them  all,  and  therefore  why 
should  he  not  marry  Marta  ?  But  it  was  evident  that  the 
morass  into  which  Peredonov  was  sinking  was  so  tenacious 
that  no  magic  could  ever  have  got  him  out  of  it  into 
another. 

And  now  after  this  meeting  with  Roubovsky,  as  Pere- 
donov was  walking  past  Vershina's,  she,  dressed  in  black 
as  usual,  enticed  him  in. 

"  Marta  and  Vladya  are  going  home  for  the  day,"  she 
said,  looking  tenderly  at  Peredonov  with  her  cinnamon- 
coloured  eyes  through  the  smoke  of  her  cigarette.     "  It 

68 


wouldn't  be  a  bad  idea  for  you  to  spend  the  day  with  them 
in  the  village.  A  workman  had  just  come  in  a  cart  for 
them." 

"  There  isn't  enough  room,"  said  Peredonov  morosely. 

"  I  think  you  could  manage  it,"  said  Vershina,  "  and 
even  if  you  have  to  squeeze  in  a  little,  it  won't  be  a  great 
hardship — you've  only  got  six  versts  to  go." 

Meanwhile  Marta  ran  out  of  the  house  to  ask  Vershina 
something.  The  excitement  of  getting  off  dissipated  her 
usual  languor  and  her  face  was  livelier  and  more  cheerful. 
They  both  tried  to  persuade  Peredonov  to  go. 

"  You'll  manage  quite  comfortably,"  Vershina  assured 
him ;  "  you  and  Marta  can  sit  at  the  back,  and  Vladya 
and  Ignaty  in  front.    Look,  there's  the  cart  in  the  yard 


now." 


Peredonov  followed  them  into  the  yard  where  the  cart 
was  standing.  Vladya  was  fussing  about,  putting  various 
things  in  it.  The  cart  was  quite  a  large  one,  but  Pere- 
donov morosely  surveyed  it  and  announced  : 

"  I'm  not  going.  There  isn't  enough  room.  There  are 
four  of  us  and  those  things  besides." 

"  Well,  if  you  think  it's  going  to  be  a  tight  squeeze," 
said  Varshina,  "  Vladya  can  go  on  foot." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Vladya,  with  a  suppressed  grin. 
"  I'll  start  at  once  and  I'll  get  there  before  you." 

Then  Peredonov  declared  that  the  cart  would  jolt  and 
that  he  did  not  like  jolts.  They  returned  to  the  summer- 
house.  Everything  was  ready,  but  Ignaty  was  still  in 
the  kitchen  eating  slowly  and  solidly. 

"  How  does  Vladya  get  on  with  his  lessons  ?  "  asked 
Marta. 

She  did  not  know  what  else  to  talk  about  with  Pere- 
donov, and  Vershina  had  more  than  once  reproached  her 
for  not  knowing  how  to  entertain  him. 

"  Badly,"  said  Peredonov  ;  "  he's  lazy  and  doesn't  pay 
attention." 

Vershina  loved  to  grumble.    She  began  to  scold  Vladya. 

69 


The  boy  flushed  and  smiled,  and  shrivelled  into  his 
clothes  as  if  he  were  cold,  lifting  one  shoulder  higher  than 
the  other,  as  his  habit  was. 

"  The  year  has  only  just  begun,"  he  said,  "  I've  got 
plenty  of  time  to  catch  up." 

"  You  ought  to  start  from  the  very  beginning,"  said 
Marta  in  a  very  grown-up  way,  which  slightly  embarrassed 
her. 

'  Yes,  he's  always  in  mischief,"  said  Peredonov. 
"  Only  yesterday,  he  was  running  about  with  some  of 
the  others  as  if  they  were  street  boys.  He's  impertinent 
too.    Last  Thursday  he  was  quite  cheeky  to  me." 

Vladya  suddenly  flushed  up  with  indignation,  yet  still 
smiled,  and  said  : 

'  I  wasn't  impertinent.  I  only  told  the  truth.  The 
other  copy-books  had  five  mistakes  not  marked,  and  all 
mine  were  marked.  And  I  only  got  two  though  mine 
was  better  than  the  boys  who  got  three." 

LC  And  that  wasn't  the  only  time  you  were  impertinent," 
persisted  Peredonov. 

"  I  wasn't  impertinent,  I  only  said  that  I  would  tell 
the  inspector,"  said  Vladya  heatedly. 

'  Vladya,  you  forget  yourself  !  "  said  Vershina  angrily ; 
"  instead  of  apologising  you're  only  repeating  what  you 
said." 

Vladya  suddenly  remembered  that  he  ought  not  to 
provoke  Peredonov,  as  he  might  marry  Marta.  He  grew 
even  redder  and  in  his  confusion  shifted  his  belt  and  said 
timidly  : 

"  I'm  sorry.  I  only  meant  to  ask  you  to  make  the 
correction." 

"  Be  quiet,  please  !  "  interrupted  Vershina.  "  I  can't 
stand  such  wrangling — I  really  can't,"  she  repeated,  and 
her  thin  body  trembled  almost  imperceptibly.  "  You're 
being  spoken  to,  so  be  silent,"  and  Vershina  poured  out 
on  Vladya  many  reproachful  words,  puffing  at  her 
cigarette    and    smiling   her  wry   smile,   as   she    usually 

70 


did  when  she  was  talking,  no  matter  what  the  subject 
was. 

"  We  shall  have  to  tell  your  father,  so  that  he  can 
punish  you,"  she  concluded. 

"  He  needs  birching,"  suggested  Peredonov,  and  looked 
angrily  at  the  offending  Vladya. 

"  Certainly,"  agreed  Vershina.     "  He  needs  birching." 

"  He  needs  birching,"  repeated  Marta  and  blushed. 

"  I'm  going  with  you  to  your  father  to-day,"  said 
Peredonov,  "  and  I'll  see  that  he  gives  you  a  good  birch- 
ing." 

Vladya  looked  silently  at  his  tormentors,  shrank  within 
himself  and  smiled  through  his  tears.  His  father  was  a 
harsh  man.  Vladya  tried  to  console  himself  with  the 
thought  that  these  were  only  threats.  Surely,  he  thought, 
they  would  not  really  spoil  his  holiday.  For  a  holiday 
was  a  specially  happy  occasion  and  not  a  schoolday 
affair. 

But  Peredonov  was  always  pleased  when  he  saw  boys 
cry,  especially  when  he  so  arranged  it  that  they  cried 
and  apologised  at  the  same  time.  Vladya's  confusion, 
the  suppressed  tears  in  his  eyes  and  his  timid,  guilty 
smile,  all  these  gave  Peredonov  joy.  He  decided  to  accom- 
pany Marta  and  Vladya. 

"  Very  well,  I'll  come  with  you,"  he  said  to  Marta. 

Marta  was  glad  but  a  little  frightened.  Of  course  she 
wanted  Peredonov  to  go  with  them,  or  it  would  perhaps 
be  more  truthful  to  say  that  Vershina  wanted  it  for  her, 
and  had  instilled  the  desire  into  her  by  suggestion.  But 
now  that  Peredonov  said  that  he  would  come,  Marta 
somehow  felt  uneasy  on  Vladya's  account — she  felt  sorry 
for  him. 

Vladya  also  became  sad.  Surely  Peredonov  was  not 
going  on  his  account  ?  In  the  hope  of  appeasing  Pere- 
donov, he  said  : 

"  If  you  think,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  that  it  will  be  a 
tight  squeeze,  then  I  will  go  on  foot." 

71 


Peredonov  looked  at  him  suspiciously  and  said  : 

"  That's  all  very  well,  but  if  I  let  you  go  alone,  you'll 
run  away  somewhere.  No,  I  think  we  had  better  take 
you  to  your  father  and  he'll  give  you  what  you  deserve  !  ' 

Vladya  Hushed  once  more  and  sighed.  He  began  to 
feel  uneasy  and  depressed,  and  indignant  at  this  cruel, 
morose  man.  To  soften  Peredonov's  heart,  he  decided 
to  make  his  seat  more  comfortable. 

"  I'll  make  it  so  that  you  won't  feel  the  jolts,"  he  said. 

And  he  scurried  hastily  towards  the  cart.  Vershina 
looked  after  him,  still  smoking,  with  her  wry  smile,  and 
said  quietly  to  Peredonov  : 

"  They're  all  afraid  of  their  father.  He's  very  stern 
with  them." 

Marta  flushed. 

Vladya  wanted  to  take  with  him  to  the  village  his  new 
English  fishing-rod,  bought  with  his  saved-up  money. 
And  he  wanted  to  take  something  else.  But  this  would 
have  occupied  room  in  the  cart  and  so  Vladya  carried  all 
his  goods  back  into  the  house. 

The  weather  was  moderate,  the  sun  was  beginning  to 
decline.  The  road,  wet  with  the  morning  rain,  was  free 
of  dust.  The  cart  rolled  evenly  over  the  fine  stones, 
carrying  its  four  passengers  from  the  town  ;  the  well- 
fed  grey  cob  trotted  along  as  if  their  weight  were  nothing, 
and  the  lazy,  taciturn  driver,  Ignaty,  drove  the  cob  on  a 
light  rein. 

Peredonov  was  seated  beside  Marta.  They  had  made 
him  a  wide  seat,  so  that  Marta's  was  very  uncomfortable. 
But  he  did  not  notice  this.  And  even  if  he  had  noticed 
it,  he  would  have  thought  it  quite  proper,  since  he  was  the 
guest. 

Peredonov  felt  on  very  good  terms  with  himself.  He 
decided  to  talk  very  amiably  to  Marta,  to  joke  with  her 
and  to  entertain  her.    This  is  how  he  began  : 

"  Well,  are  you  going  to  rebel  soon  ?  " 

"  Why  rebel  ?  "  asked  Marta. 

72 


"  You  Poles  are  always  getting  ready  to  rebel — but  it's 
useless." 

"  I'm  not  thinking  about  it  at  all,"  said  Marta,  "  and 
there's  no  one  among  us  who  wants  to  rebel." 

"  Oh,  you  only  say  that — you  really  hate  the  Russians." 

"  We  haven't  any  such  idea,"  said  Vladya,  turning  to 
Peredonov  from  the  front  seat. 

"  Yes,  we  know  what  sort  of  an  idea  you  have  about 
it,"  answered  Peredonov.  "  But  we're  not  going  to  give 
Poland  back  to  you.  We  have  conquered  you.  We  have 
conferred  many  benefits  on  you  and  yet  it's  true  that 
however  well  you  feed  a  wolf  he  always  looks  towards 
the  wood." 

Marta  said  nothing. 

After  a  short  silence  Peredonov  said  abruptly : 

"  The  Poles  have  no  brains." 

Marta  flushed. 

"  There  are  all  kinds  of  people  among  both  Russians 
and  Poles,"  she  said. 

"  No,  what  I  say  is  true,"  persisted  Peredonov,  "  the 
Poles  are  stupid.  They  only  submit  to  force.  Take  the 
Jews — they're  clever." 

"  The  Jews  are  cheats — they're  not  clever  at  all,"  said 
Vladya. 

"  No,  the  Jews  are  a  very  clever  people.  The  Jew 
always  gets  the  best  of  a  Russian,  but  a  Russian  never 
gets  the  best  of  a  Jew." 

"  It  isn't  a  great  thing  to  get  the  best  of  other  people," 
said  Vladya.     "  Is  mind  only  to  be  used  for  cheating  ?  ' 

Peredonov  looked  angrily  at  Vladya. 

"  The  mind  is  for  learning,  and  you  don't  learn,"  he  said. 

Vladya  sighed  and  turned  away  and  began  to  watch 
the  cob's  even  trotting.     But  Peredonov  continued  : 

"  The  Jews  are  clever  in  everything.  Clever  in  learning 
and  in  everything.  If  the  Jews  were  allowed  to  become 
professors,  all  professors  would  be  Jews.  But  the  Polish 
women  are  all  sluts." 

73 


He  looked  at  Marta  and  noted  with  satisfaction  that 
she  blushed  violently.    HcAbecame  amiable  : 

"  Now,  don't  think  that  I'm  talking  about  you.  I 
know  that  you  would  be  a  good  housekeeper." 

:'  All  Polish  women  are  good  housekeepers,"  replied 
Marta. 

"  Well,  yes,"  said  Percdonov,  "  they're  good  house- 
keepers. They're  clean  on  top,  but  their  petticoats  are 
dirty.  But  then  you  had  Mickiewicz.*  He's  better  than 
our  Pushkin.  He  hangs  on  my  wall — Pushkin  used  to 
hang  there,  but  I  took  him  down  and  hung  him  in  the 
privy.    He  was  a  lackey." 

"  But  you're  a  Russian,"  said  Vladya.  "  What's  our 
Mickiewicz  to  you  ?  Pushkin's  a  good  poet  and  Mickie- 
wicz's  a  good  poet." 

"  Mickiewicz  is  better,"  asseverated  Peredonov.  "  The 
Russians  are  fools.  They've  invented  only  the  samovar 
— nothing  else." 

Peredonov  looked  at  Marta,  screwed  up  one  eye  and 
said  : 

You've  got  a  lot  of  freckles.    That's  not  pretty." 
What  can  one  do  ?  "  asked  Marta,  smiling. 

"  I've  got  freckles  too,"  said  Vladya,  turning  round  on 
his  narrow  scat  and  brushing  against  the  silent  Ignaty. 

"  You're  a  boy,"  said  Peredonov,  "  and  so  it  doesn't 
matter.  A  man  needn't  be  handsome  ;  but  it  doesn't 
become  a  girl,"  he  went  on,  turning  to  Marta.  "  No  one 
will  want  to  marry  you.  You  ought  to  bathe  your  face 
in  cucumber-brine." 

Marta  thanked  him  for  his  advice. 

Vladya  looked  smilingly  at  Percdonov. 

"  What  are  you  grinning  at  ?  "  said  Peredonov.  "  Just 
wait  till  we're  there — then  you'll  get  what's  waiting  for 
you." 

Vladya,    shifting   in   his   seat,    looked   attentively   at 

*  Great  Polish  poet  (1798-1855)  who  "is  held  to  have  been  the 
greatest  Slavonic  poet  with  the  exception  of  Pushkin." 

74 


(i 


Peredonov  and  tried  to  find  out  if  he  were  joking  or 
speaking  seriously.  But  Peredonov  could  not  bear  to 
have  anyone  stare  at  him. 

"What  are  you  eyeing  me  for?  "  he  asked  harshly. 
"  There  are  no  patterns  on  me.  Are  you  trying  to  cast  a 
spell  on  me  ?  " 

Vladya  was  frightened  and  turned  away  his  eyes. 

"  I'm  sorry,"  he  added  timidly,  "  I  didn't  do  it  on 
purpose." 

"  And  do  you  believe  in  the  evil  eye  ?  "  asked  Marta. 

''  Of  course  the  evil  eye  is  a  superstition,"  said  Pere- 
donov angrily.  "  But  it's  so  awfully  rude  to  stare  at 
people." 

There  was  an  awkward  silence  for  the  next  few  minutes. 

"  You're  very  poor,  aren't  you  ?  "  said  Peredonov 
suddenly. 

"  Well,  we're  not  rich,"  said  Marta,  "  but  still  we're 
not  so  poor.  Each  one  of  us  has  a  little  something  put 
aside." 

Peredonov  looked  at  her  incredulously  and  said  : 

"  I'm  sure  you're  poor.  You  go  barefoot  at  home 
every  day." 

"  We  don't  do  it  from  poverty,"  exclaimed  Vladya. 

"  What  then  ?  From  wealth  ?  "  asked  Peredonov,  and 
burst  into  a  laugh. 

"  Not  at  all  from  poverty,"  said  Vladya  flushing. 
"  It's  very  good  for  the  health.  It  hardens  one,  and  it's 
very  pleasant  in  summer." 

'  You're  lying,"  said  Peredonov  coarsely,  "  rich  people 
don't  go  barefoot.  Your  father  has  a  lot  of  children  and 
hasn't  got  tuppence  to  keep  them  on.  You  can't  afford 
to  buy  so  many  boots." 


75 


CHAPTER  VII 

Varvara  had  no  knowledge  of  Pcredonov's  trip.  She 
passed  an  extremely  distressing  night. 

When  Peredonov  returned  to  town  in  the  morning  he 
did  not  go  home,  but  asked  to  be  driven  to  church — it 
was  time  for  Mass.  It  seemed  dangerous  to  him  now  not 
to  go  to  church  often — they  might  inform  against  him 
if  he  did  not. 

At  the  church  gate  he  met  a  pleasant-looking  school- 
boy, with  a  rosy,  ingenuous  face  and  innocent  blue  eyes. 
Peredonov  said  to  him  : 

"  Hullo  there,  Mashenka,  hullo,  girlie  !  " 

Misha  Koudryavtsev  flushed  painfully.  Peredonov 
often  teased  him  by  calling  him  "  Mashenka  " — Misha 
did  not  understand  why  and  could  not  make  up  his  mind 
to  complain.  A  number  of  his  companions,  stupid 
youngsters  elbowing  each  other,  laughed  at  Peredonov's 
words.    They  too  liked  to  tease  Misha. 

The  church,  dedicated  to  the  prophet  Elias,  an  old 
structure  built  in  the  days  of  Tsar  Mikhail,  stood  in  the 
square,  facing  the  school.  For  this  reason,  on  church 
holidays,  at  Mass  and  for  Vespers,  the  schoolboys  had  to 
gather  here  and  to  stand  in  rows  on  the  left  by  the  chapel 
of  St.  Catherine  the  Martyr,  while  behind  them  stood  one 
of  the  assistant  masters  in  order  to  keep  discipline.  Here 
also  in  a  row,  nearer  the  centre  of  the  church,  stood  the 
form  masters,  as  well  as  the  inspector  and  the  Head- 
Master,  with  their  families.  It  was  usual  for  nearly  all 
the  orthodox  schoolboys  to  gather  here,  except  the  few 
who  were  permitted  to  attend  their  parish  churches  with 
their  parents. 

The  choir  of  schoolboys  sang  well,  and  for  this  reason 

76 


the  church  was  attended  by  merchants  of  the  First 
Guild,  officials  and  the  families  of  landed  gentry.  There 
were  only  a  few  of  the  common  folk — especially  since,  in 
conformity  with  the  Head-Master's  wish,  Mass  was 
celebrated  there  later  than  in  other  churches. 

Peredonov  stood  in  his  usual  place,  from  which  he 
could  see  all  the  members  of  the  choir.  Screwing  up  his 
eyes,  he  looked  at  them  and  thought  that  they  were 
standing  out  of  their  places.  If  he  had  been  inspector 
he  would  have  pulled  them  up.  There  was,  for  example, 
a  smooth-faced  boy,  named  Kramarenko,  a  small,  thin, 
fidgety  youngster  who  was  constantly  turning  this  way 
and  that  way,  whispering,  smiling — and  there  was  no 
one  to  keep  him  in  order.  It  seemed  to  be  no  one's 
affair. 

"  What  confusion  !  '  thought  Peredonov.  "  These 
choir-boys  are  all  good-for-nothings.  That  dark  youngster 
there  has  a  fine,  clear  soprano — so  he  thinks  he  can 
whisper  and  grin  in  church." 

And  Peredonov  frowned. 

At  his  side  stood  a  late-comer,  the  inspector  of  the 
National  Schools,  Sergey  Potapovitch  Bogdanov,  an 
oldish  man  with  a  brown,  stupid  face,  who  always  looked 
as  if  he  wanted  to  explain  to  somebody  something  which 
he  could  never  make  head  or  tail  of  himself.  No  one  was 
easier  to  frighten  or  to  astonish  than  Bogdanov  :  no 
sooner  did  he  hear  anything  new  or  disquieting  than  his 
forehead  would  become  wrinkled  from  his  inward,  painful 
efforts  and  from  his  mouth  would  issue  a  string  of  in- 
coherent and  perplexed  exclamations. 

Peredonov  bent  towards  him  and  said  in  a  whisper  : 

"  One  of  your  schoolmistresses  walks  about  in  a  red 
shirt !  " 

Bogdanov  wras  alarmed.  His  white  Adam's  apple 
twitched  with  fear  under  his  chin. 

"  What  do  you  say  ?  "  he  whispered  hoarsely.  "  Who 
is  she  ?  " 

77 


"  The  loud-voiced,  fat  one — I  don't  know  what  her 
name  is,"  whispered  Peredonov. 

"  The  loud-voiced  one,  the  loud-voiced  one,"  repeated 
Bogdanov  in  a  confused  way,  "  that  must  be  Skobotchkina. 
Yes  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  must  be  the  one,"  declared  Peredonov. 

"  Weil  !  Good  heavens  !  Who'd  have  thought  that  !  " 
exclaimed  Bogdanov.  "  Skobotchkina  in  a  red  shirt  ! 
Well  !    Did  you  see  it  with  your  own  eyes  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  saw  her,  and  they  tell  me  she  goes  into  school 
like  that.  And  sometimes  even  worse  ;  she  puts  on  a 
sarafan*  and  -walks  about  like  a  common  girl." 

"  You  don't  say  so  !  I  must  look  into  it  !  We  can't 
have  that !  We  can't  have  that !  She'll  have  to  be 
dismissed,  dismissed,  I  say,"  babbled  on  Bogdanov. 
"  She  was  always  like  that." 

Mass  was  over.  As  they  were  leaving  the  church, 
Peredonov  said  to  Kramarenko  : 

"  Here,  you  whippety-snippet  !  WThy  were  you  grin- 
ning in  church  ?    Just  wait,  I  shall  tell  your  father  !  ' 

Kramarenko  looked  at  Peredonov  in  astonishment  and 
ran  past  him  without  speaking.  He  belonged  to  that 
number  of  pupils  who  thought  Peredonov  coarse,  stupid 
and  unjust,  and  who  therefore  disliked  and  despised  him. 
The  majority  of  the  pupils  thought  similarly.  Peredonov 
imagined  that  these  were  the  boys  who  had  been  preju- 
diced against  him  by  the  Head-Master,  if  not  personally, 
at  least  through  his  sons. 

Peredonov  was  approached  on  the  other  side  of  the 
fence  by  Volodin.  He  was  chuckling  happily,  and  his 
face  was  as  cheerful  as  if  it  were  his  birthday  ;  he  wore 
a  bowler  hat  and  carried  his  cane  in  the  fashionable  way. 

"  I've  something  to  tell  you,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  he 
said  gleefully.  "  I've  managed  to  persuade  Chercpnin, 
and  very  soon  he's  going  to  smear  Marta's  gate  with 
tar  !  " 

*  Sarafan,  national  peasant-woman's  costume. 
78 


Percdonov  said  nothing  for  a  moment.  He  seemed  to 
be  considering  something,  and  then  suddenly  burst  into 
his  usual  morose  laughter.  Volodin  at  once  ceased  grin- 
ning, assumed  a  sober  look,  straightened  his  bowler  hat, 
looked  at  the  sky,  swung  his  stick  and  said  : 

"  It's  a  fine  day,  but  it  looks  as  if  it  will  rain  this 
evening.  Well,  let  it  rain  ;  I  shall  spend  the  evening  at 
the  future  inspector's  house." 

"  I  can't  waste  any  time  at  home  now,"  said  Pere- 
donov,  "  I've  got  more  important  affairs  to  attend  to  in 
town." 

Volodin  looked  as  if  he  comprehended,  though  he  really 
had  no  idea  what  business  Peredonov  had  to  attend  to. 
Peredonov  determined  that  he  must,  without  fail,  make 
several  visits.  Yesterday's  chance  meeting  with  the 
Lieutenant-Colonel  had  suggested  to  him  an  idea  which 
now  seemed  to  him  very  important :  to  make  the  rounds 
of  all  important  personages  of  the  town  to  assure  them 
of  his  loyalty.  If  he  should  succeed,  then,  in  an  emer- 
gency, Peredonov  would  find  defenders  in  the  town  who 
would  testify  to  the  correctness  of  his  attitude. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Ardalyon  Borisitch  ?  "  asked 
Volodin,  seeing  that  Peredonov  was  turning  off  from  the 
path  by  which  he  usually  went  back  from  church. 
"  Aren't  you  going  home  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I'm  going  home,"  answered  Peredonov,  "  but  I 
don't  like  to  go  along  that  street  now." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  There's  a  lot  of  durman*  growing  there,  and  the 
smell's  very  strong.  I'm  very  much  affected  by  it — it 
stupefies  me.  My  nerves  are  on  edge  just  now.  I  seem 
to  have  nothing  but  worries." 

Volodin's  face  once  more  assumed  a  comprehending 
and  sympathetic  expression. 

On  the  way  Peredonov  pulled  off  some  thistle-heads 
and  put  them  in  his  pocket. 

*  See  note  on  p.  51. 

79 


"  What  do  you  want  those  thistle-heads  for  ?  "  asked 
Volodin  with  a  grin. 

"  For  the  cat,"  answered  Pcrcdonov  gruffly. 

"  Are  you  going  to  stick  them  in  its  fur  ?  '  asked 
Volodin. 

"  Yes." 

Volodin  sniggered. 

"  Don't  begin  without  me,"  he  cried. 

Peredonov  asked  him  to  come  in  at  once,  but  Volodin 
declared  that  he  had  an  appointment  :  he  suddenly  felt 
that  it  wasn't  the  right  thing  not  to  have  appointments  ; 
Pcredonov's  words  about  his  affairs  had  inspired  him 
with  the  idea  that  it  would  be  well  for  him  to  visit  the 
Adamenko  girl  on  his  own,  and  to  tell  her  that  he  had 
some  new,  splendid  drawings  which  needed  framing — 
perhaps  she  would  like  to  look  at  them.  "  In  any  case," 
thought  Volodin,  "  Nadezhda  Vassilyevna  will  ask  me  to 
have  a  cup  of  coffee." 

And  so  that  was  what  Volodin  did.  He  suddenly  in- 
vented another  scheme  :  he  proposed  to  Nadezhda 
Vassilyevna  that  her  brother  should  take  up  carpentry. 
Nadezhda  Vassilyevna  imagined  that  Volodin  was  in 
need  of  money,  and  she  immediately  consented.  They 
agreed  to  work  for  two  hours  three  times  a  week,  for 
which  Volodin  was  to  get  thirty  roubles  a  month. 
Volodin  was  in  raptures — here  was  some  cash  and  the 
possibility  of  frequent  meetings  with  Nadezhda  Vassil- 
yevna. 

Peredonov  returned  home  gloomy  as  usual.  Varvara, 
pale  from  her  sleepless  night,  grumbled  : 

"  You  might  have  told  me  yesterday  that  you  weren't 
coming  home." 

Peredonov  provoked  her  by  saying  maliciously  that  he 
had  been  on  a  trip  with  Marta.  Varvara  was  silent.  She 
held  the  Princess's  letter  in  her  hand.  It  was  a  forged 
letter,  but  still . 

She  said  to  him  at  luncheon,  with  a  meaning  smile  : 

80 


"  While  you  were  gadding  about  with  Marfushka,  I 
received  an  answer  from  the  Princess." 

"  I  didn't  know  you  wrote  to  her."  Pcredonov's  face 
lighted  up  with  a  gleam  of  dull  expectation. 

"  Well,  that's  good  !  Didn't  you  yourself  tell  me  to 
write  ?  " 

"  Well,  what  did  she  say  ?  "  asked  Peredonov  with 
some  agitation. 

"  Here's  the  letter — read  it  for  yourself." 

Varvara  fumbled  for  a  long  time  in  her  pockets  and 
finally  found  the  letter  and  gave  it  to  Peredonov.  He 
stopped  eating  and  grabbed  the  letter  eagerly.  He  read 
it  and  was  overjoyed.  Here  at  last  was  a  clear  and  defi- 
nite promise.  At  the  moment  no  doubts  entered  his 
mind.  He  quickly  finished  his  luncheon  and  went  out 
to  show  the  letter  to  his  acquaintances  and  friends. 

With  a  grim  animation  he  entered  Vershina's  garden. 
Vershina,  as  nearly  always,  was  standing  at  the  gate 
smoking.  She  was  very  pleased  :  formerly,  she  had  to 
lure  him  in,  now  he  came  in  himself.    Vershina  thought  : 

"  That  comes  of  his  going  on  a  trip  with  Marta  ;  he 
spent  some  time  with  her  and  now  he's  come  again.  I 
wonder  if  he  means  to  propose  to  her  ?  " 

Peredonov  disillusioned  her  immediately  by  showing 
her  the  letter. 

"  You  kept  disbelieving  it,"  he  said,  "  and  here  the 
Princess  has  written.    Read  that  and  see  for  yourself." 

Vershina  looked  incredulously  at  the  letter,  quickly 
blew  tobacco  smoke  on  it  several  times  running,  made  a 
wry  smile  and  asked  quietly  and  quickly  : 

"  But  where's  the  envelope  ?  " 

Peredonov  suddenly  felt  alarmed.  He  suspected  that 
Varvara  was  trying  to  deceive  him  and  had  written  the 
letter  herself.    He  must  get  the  envelope  from  her  at  once. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  said,  "  I  must  ask." 

He  said  good-bye  to  Vershina  and  went  quickly  back 
to  his  own  house.     It  was  absolutely  necessary  for  him 

G—  LITTLE   DEMON  8] 


to  assure  himself  as  soon  as  possible  of  the  source  of  the 
letter — the  sudden  doubt  tormented  him.  Vershina, 
standing  at  the  gate,  looked  after  him  with  her  wry  "smile, 
rapidly  puffing  out  cigarette  smoke,  as  if  she  were  trying 
to  finish  the  cigarette  like  a  tiresome  lesson. 

Peredonov  came  running  home  with  a  frightened  and 
tormented  face,  and  while  yet  in  the  passage  he  shouted 
in  a  voice  hoarse  with  agitation  : 

"  Varvara  !    Where's  the  envelope  ?  " 

"  What  envelope  ?  "  asked  Varvara  in  a  trembling 
voice. 

She  looked  at  Peredonov  insolently  and  would  have 
flushed  had  she  not  been  already  rouged. 

"  The  envelope,  from  the  Princess,  of  the  letter  you 
gave  me  to-day,"  explained  Peredonov,  with  a  look 
half-frightened,  half-malignant. 

Varvara  gave  a  forced  laugh. 

"  I  burnt  it.  What  good  was  it  to  me  ?  "  she  said. 
"  Why  should  I  keep  it  ?  I'm  not  making  a  collection  of 
envelopes.  You  can't  get  any  money  for  envelopes. 
You  can  only  get  money  for  empty  bottles  at  a  pub." 

Peredonov  walked  gloomily  about  the  rooms  and 
growled  : 

"  There  are  all  sorts  of  Princesses — we  know  that. 
Perhaps  this  Princess  lives  here." 

Varvara  j:>retcnded  not  to  understand  his  suspicions, 
but  yet  trembled  violently. 

When,  towards  evening,  Peredonov  strolled  past 
Vcrshina's  cottage,  she  stopped  him. 

"  Have  you  found  the  envelope  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Vara  tells  me  she  burnt  it." 

Vershina  laughed,  and  the  white,  thin  clouds  of  tobacco 
smoke  wavered  before  her  in  the  quiet,  cool  air. 

"  It's  strange,"  she  said,  "  that  your  cousin  is  so  care- 
less. Here's  an  important  letter — and  no  envelope  ! 
You  might  have  been  able  to  tell  from  the  post-mark 
when  it  was  sent  and  where  from." 

82 


Peredonov  was  extremely  irritated.  In  vain  Vershina 
invited  him  into  the  garden ;  in  vain  she  promised  to 
look  in  the  cards  for  him — Peredonov  left. 

Nevertheless,  he  showed  the  letter  to  his  friends  and 
boasted.    And  his  friends  believed  him. 

But  Peredonov  did  not  know  whether  to  believe  or 
not.  At  all  events,  he  decided  to  begin  on  Tuesday  his 
round  of  visits  to  important  personages  in  the  town  to 
strengthen  his  position.  He  decided  not  to  begin  on 
Monday,  as  it  was  an  unlucky  day. 


S3 


CHAPTER   VIII 

As  soon  as  Peredonov  left  to  play  billiards  Varvara  went 
off  to  see  Grushina.  They  argued  for  a  long  time,  and  at 
last  decided  to  mend  the  matter  with  another  letter. 
Varvara  knew  that  Grushina  had  friends  in  Peterburg. 
With  their  assistance  it  would  be  easy  to  get  the  letter 
posted  in  Peterburg. 

Just  as  on  the  first  occasion,  Grushina  for  a  long  time 
pretended  to  have  scruples. 

"  Oh,  Varvara  Dmitrievna  darling  !  "  she  said.  "  Even 
the  first  letter  makes  me  tremble.  I'm  always  afraid. 
Whenever  I  see  a  police  inspector  near  the  house  I  almost 
faint.    I  think  they're  coming  for  me  to  take  me  to  jail." 

For  a  whole  hour  Varvara  tried  to  persuade  her.  She 
promised  her  all  sorts  of  gifts,  and  even  offered  a  little 
money  in  advance.  In  the  end  Grushina  agreed.  They 
decided  to  act  in  this  way  :  First,  Varvara  would  say 
that  she  had  replied  to  the  Princess's  letter,  thanking 
her ;  then,  after  several  days,  a  letter  would  arrive, 
ostensibly  from  the  Princess.  In  that  letter  it  would  be 
even  more  definitely  stated  that  there  were  certain 
positions  in  view,  and  that  as  soon  as  they  were  married 
it  would  be  possible,  with  a  little  effort,  to  procure  one 
for  Peredonov.  This  letter,  like  the  first,  would  be 
written  by  Grushina — then  they  would  seal  it  up,  put 
a  seven  kopeck  stamp  on  it,  Grushina  would  enclose  it  in 
a  letter  to  her  friend  in  Peterburg,  who  would  drop  it  into 
a  letter-box. 

Presently  Varvara  and  Grushina  set  out  to  a  shop  at 
the  extreme  end  of  the  town  and  there  bought  a  packet 
of  narrow  envelopes  with  a  coloured  lining,  and  some 
coloured  paper,  the  last  of  the  kind  in  the  shop.     This 

84 


precaution  had  been  suggested  by  Grushina  in  order  to 
help  conceal  the  forgery.  The  narrow  envelopes  were 
chosen  so  that  the  forged  letter  could  easily  be  enclosed 
in  another  envelope. 

When  they  got  back  to  Grushina' s  house  they  com- 
posed the  Princess's  letter.  When,  in  the  course  of  a 
couple  of  days,  the  letter  was  ready,  they  scented  it  with 
Clrypre.  The  remaining  envelopes  and  paper  they  burnt, 
so  that  no  trace  should  be  left. 

Grushina  wrote  to  her  friend,  telling  her  the  precise 
day  on  which  the  letter  was  to  be  posted — they  calcu- 
lated for  the  letter  to  arrive  on  Sunday,  when  Peredonov 
was  at  home.  This  would  be  an  additional  proof  of  the 
letter's  genuineness. 

On  Tuesday  Peredonov  tried  to  get  home  earlier  from 
school.  Circumstances  helped  him:  his  last  lesson  was 
in  a  class-room  whose  door  opened  into  the  corridor 
where  the  clock  hung  and  where  the  school  porter,  an 
alert  ex-sergeant,  rang  the  bell  at  stated  intervals. 
Peredonov  sent  the  porter  into  the  office  to  get  the  class- 
book,  and  himself  put  the  clock  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
forward.    No  one  noticed  him. 

At  home  Peredonov  refused  his  luncheon  and  asked 
for  dinner  to  be  prepared  later — he  had  certain  business 
to  attend  to. 

"  They  tangle  and  tangle  and  I  must  untangle,"  said 
he  angrily,  thinking  of  the  snares  which  his  enemies  were 
preparing  for  him. 

He  put  on  a  frock-coat  which  he  seldom  wore  and  in 
which  he  felt  constrained  and  uneasy  :  his  body  had 
grown  stouter  with  years,  and  the  frock-coat  sat  badly 
on  him.  He  was  annoyed  because  he  had  no  orders  or 
decorations  to  wear.  Other  people  had  them — even 
Falastov  of  the  Town  School  had — and  he,  Peredonov, 
had  none.  It  was  all  the  Head-Master's  malice  :  not 
once  had  he  been  nominated.  He  was  sure  of  his  rank  : 
this  the  Head-Master  could  not  take  away — but  what 

85 


was  the  use  of  that,  if  there  were  no  visible  signs  of  it  ? 
However,  his  new  uniform  would  show  his  rank  :  it  was 
pleasant  to  think  that  the  epaulettes  of  this  uniform 
would  be  according  to  the  rank  and  not  according  to  the 
class  he  taught.  This  would  look  important — the  epau- 
lettes like  a  general's  and  one  large  star.  Everyone  in 
the  street  could  see  at  once  that  a  State  Councillor  was 
walking  by.  "  I  shall  have  to  order  my  new  uniform 
soon,"  thought  Peredonov. 

He  went  into  the  street  and  only  then  he  began  to 
wonder  with  whom  he  should  begin. 

It  seemed  to  him  that  in  his  circumstances  the  most 
important  people  were  the  Commissioner  of  Police  and 
the  District  Attorney.  It  was  obvious  that  he  ought  to 
begin  with  them  or  possibly  with  the  Marshal  of  the 
Nobility.  But  at  the  thought  of  starting  with  them  he 
was  seized  with  apprehension.  Marshal  Veriga  was  after 
all  a  general  who  had  a  governorship  in  view.  The  Com- 
missioner of  Police  and  the  District  Attorney  were  the 
terrible  representatives  of  the  police  and  the  law. 

"  At  the  beginning,"  thought  Peredonov,  "  I  ought  to 
begin  with  the  lesser  officials  and  then  look  about  me  and 
nose  around — then  it  will  be  clear  how  they'll  treat  me 
and  what  they'll  say  about  me."  This  is  why  Peredonov 
decided  that  it  would  be  wiser  to  begin  with  the  Mayor. 
Although  he  was  a  merchant  and  had  only  been  educated 
in  the  District  school,  still  he  went  about  everywhere  and 
everyone  came  to  his  house.  His  position  gave  him  the 
respect  of  the  town,  and  even  in  other  towns  and  in  the 
capital  he  had  quite  important  acquaintances. 

And  Peredonov  resolutely  turned  in  the  direction  of 
the  Mayor's  house. 

The  weather  was  gloomy,  the  leaves  fell  from  the  boughs 
submissively  and  wearily.  Peredonov  felt  somewhat  ap- 
prehensive. In  the  Mayor's  house  a  smell  of  freshly- 
waxed  parquet  floors  mingled  with  a  barely  perceptible 
and  yet  pleasant  odour  of  food.    It  was  quiet  and  depress- 

86 


ing  there.  The  Mayor's  children,  a  schoolboy  and  a 
growing  girl — "  She  has  a  governess  to  look  after  her," 
her  father  used  to  say — were  decorously  in  their  rooms. 
There  it  was  cosy,  restful  and  cheerful ;  the  windows 
looked  out  on  the  garden  ;  the  furniture  was  comfort- 
able ;  there  were  all  sorts  of  games  in  the  rooms  and  in 
the  garden.    The  children's  voices  sounded  cheerfully. 

In  the  first-floor  rooms,  facing  the  street,  where  visitors 
were  received,  everything  was  affected  and  severe.  The 
red  wood  furniture  was  like  immensely  magnified  toy 
models  ;  it  was  quite  awkward  for  ordinary  people  to 
sit  in — when  you  sat  down  you  felt  as  if  you  had  dropped 
on  a  stone,  but  the  heavy  host  seemed  to  sit  down  quite 
comfortably.  The  Archimandrite  of  the  suburban 
monastery,  who  often  visited  the  Mayor,  called  these 
"  soul-saving  chairs,"  to  which  the  Mayor  would  answer  : 

"  Yes,  I  don't  like  those  womanish  luxuries  that  you 
see  in  other  houses.  You  sit  down  on  springs  and  you 
shake — you  shake  yourself  and  the  furniture  shakes — 
what's  the  use  of  that  ?  And  in  any  case  the  doctors  also 
don't  approve  of  soft  furniture." 

The  Mayor,  Yakov  Anikyevitch  Skouchayev,  met 
Peredonov  on  the  threshold  of  his  drawing-room.  He 
was  a  tall,  robust  man  with  closely  cropped  dark  hair  ; 
he  comported  himself  with  dignity  and  courtesy,  though 
not  altogether  free  from  contemptuousness  towards 
people  of  small  means. 

Peredonov  sat  down  heavily  in  a  broad  chair  and  said 
in  answer  to  his  host's  first  polite  questions  : 

"  I've  come  on  business." 

"  With  pleasure.  What  can  I  do  for  you  ?  "  said  tiie 
Mayor  politely. 

In  his  cunning  little  black  eyes  suddenly  glimmered 
a  spark  of  contempt.  He  thought  that  Peredonov  had 
come  to  borrow  money,  and  decided  that  he  could  not 
let  him  have  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty  roubles. 
There  were  quite  a  number  of  officials  in  town  who  owed 

87 


Skouchayev  more  or  less  significant  sums.  Skouchayev 
never  referred  to  the  loan,  but  he  never  extended  further 
credit  to  the  delinquent  debtors.  He  always  gave  willingly 
the  first  time  according  to  the  standing  and  condition  of 
the  borrower. 

"  You,  as  Mayor,  Yakov  Anikyevitch,  are  the  first 
personage  in  the  town,"  said  Pcredonov.  '  That's  why 
I  came  to  have  a  talk  with  you." 

Skouchayev  assumed  an  important  air  and  inclined 
his  head  slightly  as  he  sat  in  the  chair. 

"  All  sorts  of  scandal  are  being  spread  about  me,"  said 
Peredonov  morosely.  "  They  invent  things  that  never 
happened." 

"  You  can't  gag  other  people's  mouths,"  said  the 
Mayor.  "  And,  in  any  case,  in  our  little  Palcstines  it's 
well  known  that  gossips  have  nothing  to  do  except  to 
wag  their  tongues." 

"  They  say  I  don't  go  to  church,  but  that's  not  true," 
continued  Peredonov.  "  I  do  go ;  it's  true  I  didn't  go  on 
St.  Elias'  day,  but  that  was  because  I  had  a  stomach 
ache.    Otherwise  I  always  go." 

"  That's  quite  true,"  the  host  confirmed,  "  I  happened 
to  see  you  there  myself,  though  I  don't  often  go  to  your 
church,  I  usually  go  to  the  monastery.  It's  been  a 
custom  of  our  family  for  a  long  time." 

"  All  sorts  of  scandal  are  being  spread  about  me,"  said 
Peredonov.  "  They  say  that  I  tell  the  schoolboys  nasty 
tales,  but  that's  nonsense.  Of  course,  I  sometimes  tell 
them  something  amusing  at  a  lesson,  to  make  it  interest- 
ing. You  yourself  have  a  boy  at  school.  Now,  he  hasn't 
told  you  anything  of  the  sort  about  me,  has  he  ?  ' 

"  That's  quite  true,"  agreed  Skouchayev.  "  Nothing 
of  the  sort  has  happened.  However,  youngsters  are 
usually  cunning,  they  never  repeat  what  they  know  they 
oughtn't  to  repeat.  Of  course,  my  boy  is  still  quite  small. 
He's  young  enough  to  have  repeated  something  silly,  but 
I  assure  you  he  has  said  nothing  of  the  sort." 

SS 


"  And  in  the  elder  classes  they  know  everything  for 
themselves,"  went  on  Peredonov.  "  But,  of  course,  I 
never  say  anything  improper  there." 

"  Naturally,"  replied  Skouehayev,  "  a  school  is  not  a 
market  place." 

"  That's  the  kind  of  people  they  are  here,"  complained 
Peredonov.  "  They  invent  tales  of  things  that  never 
happened.  That's  why  I've  come  to  you — you're  the 
Mayor  of  the  town." 

Skouehayev  felt  very  flattered  that  Peredonov  had 
come  to  him.  He  did  not  understand  what  it  was  all 
about,  but  he  was  shrewd  enough  not  to  show  his  lack  of 
comprehension. 

"  And  there  are  other  things  being  said  about  me," 
continued  Peredonov.  "  For  one  thing  that  I  live  with 
Varvara — they  say  that  she's  not  my  cousin  but  my 
mistress.  And  she's  only  a  cousin  to  me — honest  to 
God  !  She's  a  very  distant  relative — only  a  third  cousin  ; 
there's  nothing  against  marrying  her.  Indeed  I'm  going 
to  marry  her." 

"  So-o.  So-o.  Of  course  !  "  said  Skouehayev  reflec- 
tively.   "  Besides,  a  bride's  wreath  ends  the  matter." 

"  It  was  impossible  earlier,"  said  Peredonov.  "  I  had 
important  reasons.  It  was  utterly  impossible,  or  I  should 
have  married  long  ago,  believe  me." 

Skouehayev  assumed  an  air  of  dignity,  frowned,  and, 
tapping  on  the  dark  tablecloth  with  his  plump  white 
fingers,  said  : 

"  I  believe  you.  If  that  is  so,  it  alters  the  case  entirely. 
I  believe  you  now.  I  must  confess  that  it  was  a  little 
dubious  for  you  to  live,  if  you  will  permit  me  to  say  so, 
with  your  companion  without  marrying  her.  It  was  very 
dubious,  perhaps  because — well,  you  know  children  are 
an  impressionable  race  ;  they're  apt  to  pick  things  up. 
It's  hard  to  teach  them  what's  good,  but  the  bad  comes 
easily  to  them.  That's  why  it  was  really  dubious.  And 
besides,  whose  business  is  it  ?     That's  how  I  look  at  it. 

89 


It  flatters  me  that  you've  come  to  complain  to  me,  because 
although  I'm  only  one  of  the  common  folk — I  didn't  go 
beyond  the  District  school — still  I  have  the  respect  and 
confidence  of  society.  This  is  my  third  year  as  Mayor, 
so  that  my  word  counts  for  something  among  the  bur- 
gesses." 

Skouchayev  talked  and  all  the  time  entangled  himself 
in  his  own  thoughts,  and  it  seemed  as  if  he  would  never 
end  his  tongue-spinning.  He  stopped  abruptly  and 
thought  irritatedly  : 

"  This  is  a  waste  of  time.  That's  the  trouble  with 
these  learned  men.  You  can't  understand  what  they 
want.  Everything's  clear  to  him,  to  the  learned  man, 
in  his  books,  but  as  soon  as  he  gets  his  nose  out  of  his 
books,  he  tangles  up  himself  and  tangles  up  other 
people." 

He  fixed  his  eye  on  Peredonov  with  a  look  of  perplexity, 
his  keen  eyes  greAV  dull,  his  stout  body  relapsed  into  the 
chair,  and  he  seemed  no  longer  the  brisk  man  of  action 
but  simply  a  rather  foolish  old  man. 

Peredonov  was  silent  for  a  while,  as  if  he  were  be- 
witched by  his  host's  last  words.  Then,  screwing  up  his 
eyes  with  an  indefinable  clouded  expression,  he  said  : 

"  You're  the  Mayor  of  the  town,  so  you  can  say  that 
it's  all  nonsense." 

"  That  is,  in  what  respect  ?  "  inquired  Skouchayev 
cautiously. 

"  Well,"  explained  Peredonov,  "  if  they  should  inform 
against  me  in  the  District — that  I  don't  go  to  church  or 
something  or  other — then  if  they  should  come  and  ask 
you  might  put  in  a  word  for  me." 

"  This  we  can  do,"  said  the  Mayor.  "  In  any  case,  you 
can  rely  on  us.  If  anything  should  happen,  then  we'll 
stand  up  for  you — why  shouldn't  we  put  in  a  word  for  a 
good  man  ?  We  might  even  send  in  a  testimonial  from 
the  Town  Council.  That's  all  we  can  do.  Or  perhaps,  if 
you  like,  we  can  give  you  a  personal  recommendation 

90 


from  some  prominent  citizen.    Why  not  ?    We  can  do  it, 
if  it  comes  to  the  pinch." 

;'  So  I  may  depend  on  you  ?  "  said  Percdono'v  gravely, 
as  if  replying  to  something  not  altogether  pleasant  to 
him.    "  There's  the  Head-Master  always  persecuting  me." 

"  You  don't  say  so  !  "  exclaimed  Skouchayev,  shaking 
his  head  sympathetically.  "  I  can't  imagine  how  that 
can  be,  except  from  slanders.  Nikolai  Vlassyevitch,  it 
seems  to  me,  is  a  very  reliable  man,  who  wouldn't  injure 
anyone  for  nothing.  I  can  judge  that  from  his  son.  He's 
a  serious,  rigid  man,  who  allows  no  indulgences  and 
makes  no  personal  distinctions.  In  short,  he's  a  reliable 
man.  It  couldn't  be  except  from  slanders.  Why  are 
you  at  loggerheads  ?  " 

"  We  don't  agree  in  our  views,"  explained  Percdonov. 
"  And  there  are  people  in  the  school  who  are  jealous  of 
me — they  all  want  to  be  inspectors.  It's  because 
Princess  Volchanskaya  has  j>romised  to  get  me  an 
inspector's  job,  and  so  they're  mad  with  jealousy." 

"  So-o.  So-o,"  said  Skouchayev  cautiously.  "  But  in 
any  case,  why  should  we  go  on  with  our  tongues  dry  ? 
Let's  have  a  snack  and  a  drink." 

Skouchayev  pressed  the  button  of  the  electric  bell 
near  the  hanging  lamp. 

"  That's  a  handy  trick  !  "  said  he  to  Peredonov.  "  I 
think  it  wouldn't  be  bad  for  you  to  get  into  another 
official  position.  Now,  Dashenka,"  he  said  to  the  pleasant 
looking  maid-servant  of  heavy  build  who  came  in  answer 
to  the  bell,  "  bring  in  some  zakouska  and  some  coffee, 
piping  hot  kind — d'you  understand  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Dashenka,  smiling,  as  she  walked  out 
with  a  remarkably  light  step  considering  her  heaviness. 

'  Yes,  in  another  department,"  Skouchayev  turned  to 
Peredonov  again.  "  Say,  in  the  ecclesiastical.  If  you 
take  holy  orders,  you  would  make  quite  a  serious,  reliable 
priest.  I  could  help  you  into  it.  I  have  influential  friends 
among  the  Church  dignitaries." 

91 


Skouchayev  named  several  diocesan  and  suffragan 
bishops. 

"  No,  I  don't  want  to  be  a  priest,"  answered  Peredonov. 
"I'm  afraid  of  the  incense — it  makes  me  feel  sick  and 
giddy." 

"  Well,  if  that's  the  case,  why  don't  you  join  the  police," 
advised  Skouchayev.  "  You  might,  for  example,  become 
a  Commissioner  of  Police.  Do  you  mind  telling  me  what 
your  rank  is  ?  " 

"  I'm  a  State  Councillor,"  said  Peredonov  importantly. 

"  Well,  well  !  '  exclaimed  Skouchayev  in  surprise. 
"  You  certainly  get  high  rank  in  your  profession — and  all 
that  because  you  teach  the  youngsters  ?  That  shows 
knowledge  is  something  !  Though  nowadays  there  are 
certain  gentlemen  who  attack  it,  still  we  can't  do  without 
it.  Though  I  only  went  to  a  District  school,  I  am  sending 
my  boy  to  a  University.  When  you  send  him  to  a 
gymnasia  you  have  to  force  him  to  go,  sometimes  with  a 
birch,  but  he'll  go  to  a  University  of  his  own  free  will. 
Let  me  say  that  I  never  birch  him,  but  if  he  gets  lazy  or 
does  something  naughty,  I  simply  take  him  by  the  shoul- 
ders to  the  window — there  arc  birch  trees  in  the  garden. 
I  point  to  the  trees — '  Do  you  see  that  ?  '  I  say  to  him. 
'  I  see,  papa,'  he  says  ;  '  I  won't  do  it  again  !  '  And 
true  enough  it  helps — the  youngster  mends  his  ways  as 
if  he'd  actually  been  whipped.  Ah,  those  children  ! 
those  children  !  "  concluded  Skouchayev  with  a  sigh. 

Peredonov  remained  two  hours  at  Skouchayev's.  The 
business  talk  was  followed  by  abundant  hospitality. 

Skouchayev  regaled  him — as  he  did  everything  else — 
very  solidly,  as  if  he  were  conducting  an  important  affair. 
At  the  same  time  he  tried  to  introduce  some  ingenious 
tricks  into  his  hospitality.  They  brought  punch  in  large 
glasses  like  coffee,  and  the  host  called  it  his  "  little 
coffee."  The  vodka  glasses  looked  as  if  the  foot  had  been 
broken  off  and  the  stem  sharpened  so  that  they  would 
not  stand  upright  on  the  table. 

92 


.  "  Now  I  call  these,  '  Pour  in  and  pour  out,'  "  exclaimed 
the  host. 

Then  the  merchant  Tishkov  arrived,  a  small,  grey- 
haired,  brisk  and  cheerful  man  in  very  long  boots.  He 
drank  a  great  deal  of  vodka  and  said  all  sorts  of  absurdi- 
ties in  rhyme,*  briskly  and  gaily,  and  it  was  obvious  that 
he  was  very  satisfied  with  himself. 

Peredonov  decided  at  last  that  it  was  time  to  go  home, 
and  he  rose  to  take  his  leave. 

''  Don't  be  in  such  a  hurry,"  said  the  host,  "  stay  a 
while." 

"  Stay  a  while  and  help  us  smile,"  said  Tishkov. 

"  No,  it's  time  to  leave,"  replied  Peredonov  with  a 
preoccupied  air. 

"  It's  time  to  leave  or  his  cousin'll  grieve,"  said  Tishkov 
and  winked  at  Skouchayev. 

:'  Just  now  I'm  a  busy  man,"  said  Peredonov. 

"  He  who's  a  busy  man  we  praise  him  all  we  can," 
answered  Tishkov  promptly. 

Skouchayev  escorted  Peredonov  to  the  hall.  They 
embraced  and  kissed  each  other  at  parting.  Peredonov 
was  pleased  with  his  visit.  "  The  Mayor's  on  my  side," 
he  thought  confidently. 

When  he  returned  to  Tishkov,  Skouchayev  said  : 

"  They  gossip  about  that  youth." 
'  They  may  gossip  about  that  youth,  but  they  don't 
know  the  truth,"  Tishkov  caught  him  up  immediately, 
deftly  pouring  himself  a  glass  of  English  bitter. 

It  was  evident  that  he  was  not  paying  attention  to 

*  This  rhyming  fellow  is  not  such  a  rare  specimen  as  may  seem  to 
the  English  reader.  The  tendency  to  speak  in  rhymes  is  rather 
common  among  Russian  peasants.  The  rayeshnik  is  an  interesting 
native  institution.  He  usually  improvises  rhymes  at  gatherings  and 
entertainments  in  open  places,  especially  at  carnivals  and  fairs. 
There  is  also  the  balac/ani  d'yed  (the  tent  grandfather),  who  appears 
in  a  tent  in  a  long  white  beard  of  flax,  and  makes  jests  in  rhymes. 
It  is  an  institution  that  is  gradually  disappearing. 

93 


what  was  said  to  him,  but  that  he  only  caught  up  words 
for  the  sake  of  rhyme. 

"  He's  not  a  bad  fellow,"  said  Skouchayev.  "  He's  a 
hearty  chap  and  he's  not  a  fool  at  drinking,"  continued 
Skouchayev  as  he  poured  himself  a  drink,  paying  no 
attention  to  Tishkov's  rhyming. 

"  If  he's  not  a  fool  at  drinking,  then  he's  not  an  ass 
at  thinking,"  shouted  Tishkov  gaily,  swallowing  his 
drink  at  one  gulp. 

"  That  he's  fussing  around  with  a  Mam'zell — what 
does  that  matter  !  "  said  Skouchayev. 

"  Well,  he's  got  a  Mam'zell,  but  she  may  be  a  damn 
sell,"  replied  Tishkov. 

"  He  who  has  not  sinned  against  God  is  not  responsible 
to  the  Tsar." 

"  Against  God  we've  all  sinned  ;  by  love  we're  all 
pinned." 

"  But  he  wants  to  hide  his  sin  under  a  bridal- wreath." 

"  They'll  hide  sin  under  a  bridal  wreath  and  tear  each 
other  with  furious  teeth." 

Tishkov  always  talked  in  this  way  when  the  conver- 
sation did  not  concern  his  own  affairs.  He  might  have 
bored  everybody  to  tears,  but  they  had  all  got  used  to  him 
and  did  not  notice  his  brisk  rhyming  ;  but  occasionally 
they  let  him  loose  on  a  new-comer.  But  it  was  all  the  same 
to  Tishkov  whether  they  listened  to  him  or  not ;  he  could 
not  help  catching  up  other  people's  words  to  make  rhymes, 
and  he  acted  with  the  infallibility  of  a  shrewdly  devised 
boring-machine.  If  you  looked  at  his  quick,  precise 
movements,  you  might  conclude  that  he  was  not  a  living 
person,  that  he  was  already  dead  or  had  never  lived,  and 
that  he  saw  nothing  in  the  living  world  and  heard  nothing 
but  dead-sounding  words. 


<)* 


CHAPTER   IX 

The  next  day  Peredonov  went  to  see  the  District  Attorney 
Avinovitsky. 

Again  it  was  a  gloomy  day.  The  wind  came  in  violent 
blasts,  and  whirled  clouds  of  dust  before  it.  The  evening 
was  coming  on,  and  everything  was  permeated  with  the 
dead  melancholy  light  of  bleak  skies.  A  depressing 
silence  filled  the  streets,  and  it  seemed  as  if  all  these 
pitiful  houses  had  sprung  up  to  no  purpose,  as  if  these 
hopelessly  decayed  structures  timidly  hinted  at  the  poor 
tedious  life  that  lurked  within  their  walls.  A  few  people 
walked  in  the  streets — and  they  walked  slowly,  as  if  they 
barely  conquered  the  drowsiness  that  inclined  them  to 
repose.  Only  children,  eternal,  unwearying  vessels  of 
divine  joy,  were  lively,  and  ran  about  and  played — but 
even  they  showed  signs  of  inertia,  and  some  sort  of  ugly, 
hidden  monster,  nestling  behind  their  shoulders,  looked 
out  now  and  then  with  eyes  full  of  menace  upon  their 
suddenly  dulled  faces. 

In  the  midst  of  the  depression  of  these  streets  and 
houses,  under  estranged  skies,  upon  the  unclean  and 
impotent  earth,  walked  Peredonov,  tormented  by  con- 
fused fears — there  was  no  comfort  for  him  in  the  heights 
and  no  consolation  upon  the  earth,  because  now,  as  before, 
he  looked  upon  the  world  with  dead  eyes,  like  some  demon 
who,  in  his  dismal  loneliness,  despaired  with  fear  and  with 
yearning. 

His  feelings  were  dull,  and  his  consciousness  was  a 
corrupting  and  deadening  apparatus.  All  that  reached 
his  consciousness  became  transformed  into  abomination 
and  filth.  All  objects  revealed  their  imperfections  to 
him  and  their  imperfections  gave  him  pleasure,     When 

95 


he  walked  past  an  erect  and  clean  column,  he  had  a  desire 
to  make  it  crooked  and  to  bespatter  it  with  filth.  He 
laughed  with  joy  when  something  was  being  besmirched 
in  his  presence.  He  detested  very  clean  schoolboys,  and 
persecuted  them.  He  called  them  "  the  skin  scrubbers." 
He  comprehended  the  slovenly  ones  more  easily.  There 
were  neither  beloved  objects  for  him,  nor  beloved  people 
— and  this  made  it  possible  for  nature  to  act  upon  his 
feelings  only  one-sidedly,  as  an  irritant.  The  same  was 
true  of  his  meetings  with  people.  Especially  with  strangers 
and  new  acquaintances,  to  whom  it  was  not  possible  to 
be  impolite.  Happiness  for  him  was  to  do  nothing,  and, 
shutting  himself  in  from  the  world,  to  gratify  his  belly. 

"  And  now  I  must  go  against  my  will,"  he  thought, 
"  and  explain  matters."  What  a  burden  !  What  a  bore  ! 
If  he  had  an  opportunity  at  least  of  besmirching  the  place 
he  was  about  to  visit — but  even  this  consolation  was 
denied  to  him. 

The  District  Attorney's  house  only  intensified  Perc- 
donov's  feeling  of  grim  apprehension.  And  really,  this 
house  had  an  angry,  evil  look.  The  high  roof  descended 
gloomily  upon  the  windows  which  came  in  contact  with 
the  ground.  And  its  wooden  border,  and  the  roof  itself 
had  at  one  time  been  painted  gaily  and  brightly,  but  time 
and  the  rains  had  turned  the  colouring  gloomy  and  grey. 
The  huge  ponderous  gates,  towering  above  the  house, 
and  fitted  as  it  were  to  repel  hostile  attacks,  were  always 
bolted.  Behind  them  rattled  a  chain  and  a  huge  dog 
howled  in  a  hoarse  bass  at  every  passer-by. 

All  around  were  uncultivated  spots,  vegetable  gardens 
and  hovels  which  stood  awry.  In  front  of  the  District 
Attorney's  house,  was  a  long  hexagonal  space,  the  middle 
of  which,  somewhat  deeper  than  the  rest,  was  all  un- 
paved,  and  overgrown  with  grass.  At  the  house  itself 
stood  a  lamp-post,  the  only  one  to  be  seen. 

Pcredonov  slowly  and  unwillingly  ascended  the  four 
high  steps  leading  to  the  porch  which  was  covered  with  a 

96 


double-sloped  roof,  and  pulled  the  begrimed  handle  of 
the  bell.  The  bell  resounded  quite  close  to  him,  with  a 
sharp  and  continuous  tinkle.  Soon  stealthy  footsteps 
were  heard.  Someone  seemed  to  approach  the  door  on 
tip-toes,  and  then  remained  standing  there  intensely 
still.  Very  likely  someone  was  looking  at  him  through 
some  invisible  crevice.  Then  there  was  the  creak  of  iron 
hinges,  and  the  door  opened — a  gloomy,  black-haired, 
freckled  girl  stood  on  the  threshold  and  looked  at  him 
with  eyes  full  of  suspicious  scrutiny. 

"  Whom  do  you  want  ?  "  she  asked. 

Peredonov  said  that  he  had  come  to  see  Aleksandr 
Alekseyevitch  on  business.  The  girl  let  him  in.  No 
sooner  had  he  crossed  the  threshold  than  he  made  haste 
to  pronounce  a  charm.  And  it  was  well  that  he  did  so  : 
he  had  not  yet  had  time  to  take  off  his  coat  when  he 
heard  Avinovitsky's  sharp,  angry  voice  coming  from  the 
drawing-room.  There  was  always  something  terrifying 
in  the  District  Attorney's  voice — he  could  not  speak 
otherwise.  So  even  now  he  was  already  shouting  in  the 
drawing-room  in  his  angry  and  abusive  voice  a  greeting 
of  welcome  and  joy  that  Peredonov  had  at  last  thought 
of  coming  to  him. 

Aleksandr  Alekseyevitch  Avinovitsky  was  a  man  of 
gloomy  appearance  ;  and  seemed  by  nature  fitted  to 
reprimand  and  overbear  others.  A  man  of  impeccable 
health — he  bathed  from  ice  to  ice — he  appeared  never- 
theless lean  because  of  his  shaggy,  overgrown  black 
beard,  with  a  tinge  of  blue  in  it.  He  brought  uneasiness 
if  not  fear  upon  everyone,  because  he  incessantly  shouted 
at  someone,  and  threatened  someone  with  hard  labour  in 
Siberia. 

"  I've  come  on  business,"  said  Peredonov  confusedly. 

"  Have  you  come  with  a  confession  ?  Have  you  killed 
a  man  ?  Have  you  committed  arson  ?  Have  you  robbed 
the  post  ?  "  asked  Avinovitsky  angrily  as  he  admitted 
Peredonov  into  the  drawing-room.     "  Or  have  you  been 

H— LITTLE  DEMON  97 


the  victim  of  a  crime  yourself,  which  is  more  possible  in 
our  town.  Ours  is  a  filthy  town  and  its  police  is  even 
worse.  I'm  astonished  that  you  don't  find  dead  bodies 
every  morning  lying  about  the  place.  Well,  sit  down. 
What  is  your  business  ?  Are  you  the  criminal  or  the 
victim  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Peredonov,  "  I  haven't  done  anything  of 
the  kind.  Now  there's  the  Head  -  Master  who'd  un- 
doubtedly like  to  settle  my  hash  for  me,  but  I  haven't 
any  such  thing  in  mind." 

"  So  you  haven't  come  with  a  confession  ?  '  asked 
Avinovitsky. 

"  No,  I  can't  say  that  I  have,"  mumbled  Peredonov 
timidly. 

"  Well,  if  that's  the  case,"  said  the  District  Attorney 
with  savage  emphasis,  "  then  let  me  offer  you  some- 
thing." 

He  picked  up  a  small  handbell  from  the  table  and 
rang  it.  No  one  came.  Avinovitsky  took  the  handbell 
in  both  hands,  raised  a  furious  racket,  then  threw  the 
bell  on  the  floor,  stamped  his  feet  and  shouted  in  a  savage 
voice  : 

"  Malanya  !    Malanya  !    Devils  !    Beasts  !    Demons  !  " 

Unhurried  footsteps  were  heard  and  a  schoolboy  came 
in,  Avinovitsky's  son,  a  stubby,  black-haired  boy  of  about 
thirteen  years  of  age  with  an  air  of  confidence  and  self- 
assurance.  He  greeted  Peredonov,  picked  up  the  bell, 
put  in  on  the  table  and  said  quietly  : 

"  Malanya  is  in  the  vegetable  garden." 

Avinovitsky  recovered  his  calm  for  a  moment,  and 
looking  at  his  son  with  a  tenderness  that  did  not  alto- 
gether become  his  overgrown  and  angry  face,  he  said  : 

"  Now  run  along,  sonny,  and  tell  her  to  bring  us  some- 
thing to  drink  and  some  zakouska." 

The  boy  leisurely  walked  out  of  the  room.  His  father 
looked  after  him  with  a  pleased  and  proud  smile.  But 
while  the  boy  was  still  on  the  threshold  Avinovitsky 

9« 


suddenly  frowned  savagely  and  shouted  in  his  terrible 
voice  which  made  Peredonov  tremble  : 

"  Look  alive  !  " 

The  schoolboy  began  to  run  and  they  could  hear  how 
impetuously  he  slammed  the  doors.  Avinovitsky,  smiling 
with  his  heavy  red  lips,  again  renewed  his  angry-sounding 
conversation  : 

"  My  heir — not  bad,  eh  ?  What's  he  going  to  turn  out 
like  ?  What  do  you  say  ?  He  may  become  a  fool,  but  a 
knave,  a  coward  or  a  rag — never  !  " 

"  Well — a "  mumbled  Peredonov. 

"  People  are  trivial  nowadays — they're  a  parody  of 
the  human  race  !  "  roared  Avinovitsky.  "  They  consider 
health  a  trifle.  Some  German  invented  under- waistcoats. 
Now  I  would  have  sent  that  German  to  hard  labour. 
Imagine  my  Vladimir  suddenly  in  an  under-waistcoat ! 
Why  all  summer  he  walked  about  in  the  village  without 
once  putting  his  boots  on,  and  then  think  of  him  in  an 
under-waistcoat  !  Why,  he  even  gets  out  of  his  bath 
and  runs  naked  in  a  frost  and  rolls  in  the  snow — think  of 
him  in  an  under-waistcoat.  A  hundred  lashes  for  the 
accursed  German  !  " 

Avinovitsky  passed  from  the  German  who  invented 
under- waistcoats  to  other  criminals. 

"  Capital  punishment,  my  dear  sir,  is  not  barbarism  !  " 
he  shouted.  "  Science  admits  that  there  are  born 
criminals.  There's  nothing  to  be  said  for  them,  my  friend. 
They  ought  to  be  destroyed  and  not  supported  by  the 
State.  A  man's  a  scoundrel — and  they  give  him  a  warm 
corner  in  a  convict  prison.  He's  a  murderer,  an  incen- 
diary, a  seducer,  but  the  tax-payer  must  support  him  out 
of  his  pocket.  No-o  !  It's  much  juster  and  cheaper  to 
hang  them." 

The  round  table  in  the  dining-room  was  covered  with  a 
white  tablecloth  with  a  red  border,  and  upon  it  were 
distributed  plates  with  fat  sausages  and  other  salted, 
smoked,  and  pickled  eatables,  and  decanters  and  bottles 

99 


of  various  sizes  and  forms,  containing  all  sorts  of  vodkas, 
brandies  and  liqueurs.  Everything  was  to  Peredonov's 
taste,  and  even  the  slight  carelessness  of  their  arrange- 
ment pleased  him. 

The  host  continued  to  shout.  Apropos  of  the  food,  he 
began  to  abuse  the  shopkeepers,  and  then  for  some 
reason  began  to  talk  about  ancestry. 

"  Ancestry  is  a  big  thing,"  he  shouted  savagely,  "  for 
the  muzhiks  to  enter  the  aristocracy  is  stupid,  absurd, 
impractical  and  immoral.  The  soil  is  getting  poorer  and 
the  cities  are  filled  with  unemployed.  Then  there  are 
bad  harvests,  idleness  and  suicides — how  does  that 
please  you  ?  You  may  teach  the  muzhik  as  much  as 
you  like  but  don't  give  him  any  rank — it  makes  a 
peasantry  lose  its  best  members  and  it  always  remains 
rabble  and  cattle.  And  the  gentry  also  suffer  detriment 
from  the  influx  of  uncultured  elements.  In  his  own 
village  he  was  better  than  others,  but  when  he  gets  into 
a  higher  rank  he  brings  into  it  something  coarse,  un- 
knightly  and  plebeian.  In  the  first  case  the  most  important 
things  are  gain  and  his  stomach.  No-o,  my  dear  fellow, 
the  castes  were  a  wise  institution." 

"  Here,  for  instance,  our  Head-Master  lets  all  sorts  of 
riff-raff  into  the  school,"  said  Peredonov  angrily.  "  There 
are  even  peasant  children  there  and  many  commoners' 
children." 

"  Fine  doings,  I  must  say  !  "  shouted  the  host. 

"  There's  a  circular  saying  that  we  shouldn't  admit  all 
kinds  of  riff-raff,  but  he  does  as  he  likes,"  complained 
Peredonov.  "  He  refuses  hardly  anyone.  Life  is  rather 
poorish  in  our  town,  he  says,  and  there  are  too  few  pupils 
as  it  is.  What  does  he  mean  by  few  ?  It  would  be  better 
if  there  were  less.  It's  all  we  can  do  to  correct  the  exercise- 
books  alone.  There's  no  time  to  read  the  school-books. 
They  purposely  write  dubious  words  in  their  com- 
positions — you  have  to  look  in  Grote  to  see  how  they're 
spelled." 

100 


"  Have  some  brandy,"  suggested  Avinovitsky.  "  Well, 
what  is  your  business  with  me  ?  " 

"  I  have  enemies,"  growled  Peredonov,  as  he  looked 
dejectedly  into  his  glass  of  yellow  vodka  before  drinking 
it. 

"  There  was  once  a  pig  who  lived  without  enemies," 
said  Avinovitsky,  "  and  he  also  was  slaughtered.  Have 
a  bit — it  was  a  very  good  pig." 

Peredonov  took  a  slice  of  ham  and  said  :  "  They're 
spreading  all  sorts  of  scandal  about  me." 

"  Well,  as  for  gossip  I  can  assure  you  that  no  town  is 
worse,"  shouted  the  host.  "  What  a  town  !  No  matter 
what  you   do,    all  the  pigs  begin  to  grunt  at  you  at 


once." 


"  Princess  Volchanskaya  has  promised  to  get  me  an 
inspector's  job,  and  suddenly  they  all  begin  to  gossip. 
This  might  hurt  my  prospects.  It  all  comes  from  envy. 
Now  there's  the  Head-Master,  he's  corrupted  the  entire 
school — the  schoolboys,  who  live  in  apartments,  smoke, 
drink  and  run  after  girls  and  even  the  town-boys  are  no 
better.  He's  done  all  the  corrupting  himself  and  now  he 
persecutes  me.  It's  likely  that  someone's  carried  tales  to 
him  about  me.  And  then  it  goes  still  farther.  It  might 
reach  the  Princess." 

Peredonov  dwelt  long  and  incoherently  on  his  appre- 
hensions. Avinovitsky  listened  with  an  angry  countenance 
and  punctuated  his  discourse  with  exclamations  : 

"  Villains  !    Scamps  !    Children  of  Herod  !  " 

"  What  sort  of  Nihilist  am  I  ?  "  said  Peredonov. 
"  It's  ridiculous.  I  have  an  official  cap  with  a  badge,  but 
I  don't  always  wear  it — and  I  sometimes  wear  a  bowler. 
As  for  the  fact  that  Mickiewicz  hangs  on  my  wall,  I  put 
him  there  because  of  his  poetry  and  not  because  he  was  a 
rebel.    I  haven't  even  read  his  '  Kolokol.'  "  * 

"  Well,  you've  caught  that  from  another  opera,"  said 

*  Alexander  Herzen's  periodical,  the  "Kolokol"  (The  Bell),  was 
suppressed  in  1S63  lor  its  sympathy  with  the  Poles. 

101 


Avinovitsky  unceremoniously.    "  Herzen  published  it  and 
not  Mickiewicz." 

"  That  was  another  '  Kolokol,'  "  said  Percdonov. 
"  Mickiewicz  also  published  a  '  Kolokol.'  " 

"  I  didn't  know  it — you'd  better  publish  the  fact.  It 
would  be  a  great  discovery.    You'd  become  celebrated." 

"  It's  forbidden  to  publish  it,"  said  Percdonov  angrily  ; 
"  I'm  not  allowed  to  read  forbidden  books.  And  I  never 
read  them.    I'm  a  patriot." 

After  lengthy  lamentations  in  which  Peredonov  poured 
himself  out,  Avinovitsky  concluded  that  someone  was 
trying  to  blackmail  Peredonov,  and  with  this  purpose  in 
view  was  spreading  rumours  about  him  in  order  to  frighten 
him  and  to  prepare  a  basis  for  a  sudden  demand  for 
money.  That  these  rumours  did  not  reach  him,  Avino- 
vitsky explained  by  the  fact  that  the  blackmailer  was 
acting  skilfully  upon  Peredonov's  immediate  circle — 
because  it  was  only  necessary  to  frighten  Peredonov. 
Avinovitsky  asked  : 

"  Whom  do  you  suspect  ?  " 

Peredonov  fell  into  thought.  Quite  by  chance  Grushina 
came  into  his  mind,  he  recalled  confusedly  the  recent 
conversation  with  her,  during  which  he  interrupted  her 
by  a  threat  of  informing  against  her.  The  fact  that  it 
was  he  who  had  threatened  to  inform  against  Grushina 
became  in  his  mind  a  vague  idea  of  informing  in  general. 
Whether  he  was  to  inform  against  someone  or  whether 
they  were  to  inform  against  him  was  not  clear,  and 
Percdonov  had  no  desire  to  exert  himself  to  recall  the 
matter  precisely — one  thing  was  clear,  that  Grushina 
was  an  enemy.  And  what  was  worse  she  had  seen  where 
he  hid  Pisarev.  He  would  have  to  hide  the  books  some- 
where else. 

Peredonov  said  at  last  : 

"  Well,  there's  Grushina." 

"  Yes,  I  know,  she's  a  first  class  rogue,"  said  Avino- 
vitsky sharply. 

102 


"  She's  always  coming  to  our  house,"  complained 
Peredonov.  "  And  always  nosing  around.  She's  very 
grasping — she  takes  all  she  can  get.  It's  possible  that 
she  wants  money  from  me  in  order  to  keep  her  from 
reporting  that  I  once  had  Pisarev.  Or  perhaps  she  wants 
to  marry  me.  But  I  don't  want  to  pay  her.  And  I  have 
someone  else  I  want  to  marry — let  her  inform  against 
me — I'm  not  guilty.  Only  it's  unpleasant  to  me  to  have 
this  gossip  as  it  might  prevent  my  appointment." 

"  She's  a  well-known  charlatan,"  said  the  District 
Attorney.  "  She  wanted  to  take  up  fortune-telling  by 
cards  here,  and  to  get  money  out  of  fools.  But  I  asked 
the  police  to  stop  it.  At  that  time  they  were  sensible 
and  did  what  I  told  them." 

"  Even  now  she  tells  fortunes,"  said  Peredonov.  "  She 
spread  out  the  cards  for  me  and  she  always  saw  a  long 
journey  and  an  official  letter  for  me." 

"  She  knows  what  to  say  to  everybody.  Just  wait, 
she'll  set  a  trap  for  you  and  then  she'll  try  and  extort 
money  from  you.  Then  you  come  to  me  and  I'll  give  her 
a  hundred  of  the  hottest  lashes,"  said  Avinovitsky,  using 
his  favourite  expression. 

This  expression  was  not  to  be  taken  literally,  it  merely 
meant  an  ordinary  rebuke. 

Thus  Avinovitsky  promised  his  protection  to  Pere- 
donov, but  Peredonov  left  him  agitated  by  vague  fears 
inspired  by  Avinovitsky 's  loud,  stern  speeches. 

In  this  manner  Peredonov  made  a  single  visit  every 
day  before  dinner — he  could  not  manage  more  than  one 
because  everywhere  he  had  to  make  circumstantial 
explanations.  In  the  evening,  as  was  his  custom,  he  went 
to  play  billiards. 

As  before,  Vershina  enticed  him  in  by  her  witching 
invitations,  as  before  Routilov  praised  his  sisters  to  him. 
At  home  Varvara  used  her  persuasive  powers  to  make 
him  marry  her  sooner — but  he  came  to  no  resolution.    He 

103 


indeed  thought  sometimes  that  to  marry  Varvara  would 
be  the  best  thing  he  could  do — but  suppose  the  Princess 
should  deceive  him  ?  He  would  become  the  laughing- 
stock of  the  town,  and  this  possibility  made  him  pause. 

The  pursuit  of  him  by  would-be  brides,  the  envy  of  his 
comrades,  more  often  the  product  of  his  imagination 
than  an  actual  fact,  all  sorts  of  suspected  snares — all  this 
made  his  life  wearisome  and  unhappy,  like  the  weather 
which  for  several  successive  days  had  been  bleak,  and 
often  resolved  itself  into  slow  and  scant,  but  cold  and 
prolonged  rains.  Peredonov  felt  that  life  was  becoming 
a  detestable  thing — but  he  thought  that  he  would  soon 
become  an  inspector,  and  then  everything  would  take  a 
turn  for  the  better. 


104 


CHAPTER   X 

On  Thursday,   Peredonov  went  to  see  the  Marshal  of 
the  Nobility. 

The  Marshal's  house  reminded  one  of  a  palatial  cottage 
in  Pavlovsk  or  in  Tsarskoye  Selo,  with  full  conveniences 
even  for  winter  residence.  Though  there  was  no  blatant 
display  of  luxury,  the  newness  of  many  articles  seemed 
unnecessarily  pretentious. 

Aleksandr  Mikhailovitch  Veriga  received  Peredonov  in 
his  study.  He  pretended  to  hurry  forward  to  greet  his 
guest,  and  gave  the  impression  that  it  was  only  his  ex- 
treme busyness  that  kept  him  from  meeting  Peredonov 
earlier. 

Veriga  held  himself  extraordinarily  erect  even  for  a 
retired  cavalry  officer.  It  was  whispered  that  he  wore 
corsets.  His  clean-shaven  face  was  a  uniform  red,  as  if 
it  were  painted.  His  head  was  shorn  by  the  closest- 
cutting  clippers — a  convenient  method  of  minimising  his 
bald  patch.  His  eyes  were  grey,  affable,  but  cold.  In 
his  manner  he  was  extremely  amiable  to  everyone,  but 
his  views  were  decided  and  severe.  A  fine  military  dis- 
cipline was  apparent  in  all  his  movements,  and  there  was 
a  hint  in  his  habits  of  the  future  Governor. 

Peredonov  began  to  explain  his  business  to  him  across 
a  carved  oak  table  : 

"  All  sorts  of  rumours  are  being  spread  about  me  and, 
as  a  gentleman,*  I  turn  to  you.    All  sorts  of  nonsense  is 

*  Dvoryan'm  actually  means  a  nobleman,  but  certain  professions — 
that  of  a  schoolmaster,  for  instance— entitle  a  man  to  the  rank  of 
" dvoryanin. "  We  have  used  the  English  word  "gentleman,"  to 
avoid  confusing  the  reader. 

105 


being  said  about  me,  your  Excellency,  none  of  which 
is  true." 

"  I  haven't  heard  anything,"  replied  Veriga,  smiling 
amiably  and  expectantly,  and  fixing  his  attentive  grey 
eyes  on  Peredonov. 

Peredonov  looked  fixedly  in  one  corner  of  the  room 
and  said  : 

"  I  never  was  a  Socialist.  But  if  it  sometimes  hap- 
pened that  I  said  something  I  oughtn't  to  say,  you  must 
remember  that  one  is  apt  to  be  a  little  careless  in  one's 
young  days.  But  I've  given  up  thinking  of  such  things 
altogether." 

"  So  you  were  quite  a  Liberal  ?  "  asked  Veriga  with 
an  amiable  smile.  "  You  wanted  a  Constitution,  isn't 
that  so  ?  But  we  all  wanted  a  Constitution  when  we 
were  young.    Have  one  of  these." 

Veriga  pushed  a  box  of  cigars  towards  Peredonov  who 
was  afraid  to  take  one  and  refused.     Veriga  lighted  his 


own. 
it 


Of  course,  your  Excellency,"  admitted  Peredonov, 
"  in  the  University  I,  and  only  I,  wanted  a  different  kind 
of  Constitution  from  the  others." 

"  And  what  sort  precisely  ?  "  asked  Veriga  with  a 
shade  of  approaching  displeasure  in  his  voice. 

"  What  I  wanted  was  a  Constitution  without  a  Parlia- 
ment," explained  Peredonov,  "  because  in  a  Parliament 
they  only  wrangle." 

Veriga's  eyes  lit  up  with  quiet  amusement. 

"  A  Constitution  without  a  Parliament  !  '  he  said 
reflectively.    "  Do  you  think  it's  practical  ?  " 

"  But  even  that  was  a  long  time  ago,"  said  Peredonov. 
"  Now  I  want  nothing  of  the  sort." 

And  he  looked  hopefully  at  Veriga. 

Veriga  blew  a  thin  wisp  of  smoke  from  his  lips,  was 
silent  a  moment,  and  then  said  slowly  : 

"  Well,  you're  a  schoolmaster.  And  my  duties  in  the 
district  have  something  to  do  with  the  schools.    Now,  in 

106 


your  opinion,  to  what  kind  of  school  would  you  give 
preference  :  to  the  Parish  Church  Schools  or  to  the 
so-called  secularised  District  Schools  ?  " 

Veriga  knocked  the  ash  from  his  cigar  and  fixed  an 
amiable  but  very  attentive  gaze  on  Pcredonov.     Pere- 
donov  frowned,  looked  into  the  corners  and  said  : 
'  The  District  Schools  ought  to  be  reorganised." 

"  Reorganised,"  repeated  Veriga  in  an  indefinite  tone. 
"  So-o." 

And  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  smouldering  cigar,  as  if 
he  were  awaiting  a  long  explanation. 

"  The  Instructors  there  are  Nihilists,"  said  Peredonov. 
"  The  Instructresses  don't  believe  in  God.  They  stand 
in  church  and  blow  their  noses." 

Veriga  glanced  quickly  at  Peredonov  and  said  with  a 
smile  : 

"  But  that's  necessary  sometimes,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  but  the  one  I  mean  blows  her  nose  like  a  horn, 
so  that  the  boys  in  the  choir  laugh,"  growled  Peredonov. 
"  She  does  it  on  purpose.    That's  the  sort  Skobotchkina 


is." 


"  Yes,  that  is  unpleasant,"  said  Veriga,  "  but  in 
Skobotchkina's  case  it's  due  to  a  bad  bringing  up.  She's 
a  girl  altogether  without  manners,  but  an  enthusiastic 
schoolmistress.  In  any  case  it's  not  nice  :  she  must  be 
told  about  it." 

"  And  she  walks  about  in  a  red  shirt.  And  sometimes 
she  even  walks  barefoot  in  a  sarafan.  She  practises  at 
the  high-jumps  with  the  little  boys.  It's  too  free  in  the 
schools,"  went  on  Peredonov.  "  There's  no  discipline  of 
any  kind.  They  actually  don't  want  to  chastise  the 
pupils.  The  muzhiks'  children  shouldn't  be  treated  in 
the  same  way  as  the  children  of  gentlemen — they  have 
to  be  birched." 

Veriga  looked  calmly  at  Peredonov,  then,  as  if  feeling 
uneasy  at  Percdonov's  untactful  remarks,  he  lowered 
his  eyes,  and  said  in  a  cold,  almost  gubernatorial  tone  : 

107 


"  I  must  say  that  I  have  noticed  many  good  qualities 
in  pupils  from  District  Schools.  Undoubtedly,  in  the 
great  majority  of  cases,  they  do  their  work  very  con- 
scientiously. Of  course,  as  everywhere,  the  children  are 
sometimes  guilty  of  offences.  In  consequence  of  a  bad 
upbringing  and  of  a  poor  environment,  these  offences 
can  take  a  coarse  form,  all  the  more  since  among  the 
Russian  village  population  the  general  feelings  of  duty, 
of  honour  and  respect  of  private  ownership  are  little 
developed.  The  school  should  concern  itself  with  these 
offences  attentively  and  sternly.  When  all  methods  of 
persuasion  are  exhausted  and  if  the  offence  is  a  severe 
one,  then  of  course  it  should  follow  that  in  order  not  to 
ruin  the  boy  extreme  measures  must  be  taken.  Besides, 
this  should  apply  to  all  children,  even  to  those  of  gentle- 
men. In  general,  however,  I  agree  with  you  that  in 
schools  of  this  kind  training  is  not  satisfactorily  organised. 
Madame  Shteven,*  in  her  extremely  interesting  book — 
have  you  read  it  ?  " 

"  No,  your  Excellency,"  said  Peredonov  in  confusion, 
"  I  never  have  the  time.  There's  so  much  work  in  school. 
But  I  will  read  it." 

"  Well,  that's  not  altogether  necessary,"  said  Veriga 
with  a  smile,  as  if  he  were  forbidding  Peredonov's  read- 
ing it.  "  Yes,  Madame  Shteven  recounts  with  distress 
that  two  of  her  pupils,  young  men  of  seventeen,  were 
sentenced  to  be  birched  by  the  District  Court.  You  see, 
they  were  proud  young  fellows — let  me  add  that  Ave  all 
suffered  while  they  suffered  the  execution  of  the  sentence 
— this  penalty  was  afterwards  abolished.  And,  let  me 
say  that  if  I  were  in  Madame  Shteven's  place  I  would 
like  to  let  all  Russia  know  that  this  has  happened  : 
because,  just  imagine,  they  were  sentenced  for  stealing 
apples.  Observe,  for  stealing  !  And  what's  more  she 
writes  that  they  were  her  very  best  pupils.     Yet  they 

*  Madame  Shteven  gave  all  her  energy  to  the  education  of 
peasants,  but  her  efforts  were  ultimately  curtailed  by  the  authorities. 

108 


stole  the  apples  !  Fine  bringing  up  !  It  must  frankly 
be  admitted  that  we  don't  respect  the  rights  of  owner- 
ship." 

Veriga  rose  from  his  place  in  agitation,  made  two 
steps  forward,  but  controlled  himself  and  immediately 
sat  down  again. 

"  Now  when  I  am  an  inspector  of  National  Schools  I 
shall  do  things  differently,"  said  Peredonov. 

"  Have  you  that  position  in  prospect  ?  "  asked  Veriga. 

"  Yes,  Princess  Volchanskaya  has  promised  me." 

Veriga  assumed  an  expression  of  pleasure. 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  congratulate  you.  I  have  no 
doubt  that  in  your  hands  things  will  be  improved." 

"  But,  your  Excellency,  in  the  town  they're  spreading 
all  sorts  of  nonsense  about  me — you  can't  tell,  someone 
in  the  district  may  inform  against  me  and  hinder  my 
appointment,  and  I  haven't  done  anything." 

"  Whom  do  you  suspect  in  the  spreading  of  these  false 
rumours  ?  "  asked  Veriga. 

Peredonov  mumbled  in  confusion  : 

"  Who  should  I  suspect  ?  I  don't  know,  but  they  do 
gossip  about  me.  And  I  have  come  to  you  because  they 
might  injure  my  position." 

Veriga  reflected  that  he  would  not  know  who  was 
spreading  the  gossip,  because  he  was  not  yet  Governor. 

He  again  assumed  his  role  of  Marshal,  and  made  a 
speech  which  Peredonov  listened  to  with  fear  and  de- 
pression : 

"  I  appreciate  the  confidence  which  you  have  shown 
me  in  calling  upon  my  " — (Veriga  wanted  to  say  "  pat- 
ronage "  but  refrained) — "  intervention  between  you  and 
the  society  in  which,  according  to  your  information,  these 
detrimental  rumours  about  you  are  being  disseminated. 
These  rumours  have  not  yet  reached  me,  and  you  may 
depend  upon  it  that  the  calumnies,  which  are  being 
spread  in  connection  with  you,  dare  not  venture  to  rise 
from  the  low  places  of  the  town  public,  and,  in  other 

109 


words,  thejr  will  not  go  beyond  the  secret  darkness  in 
which  they  arc  confined.  But  it  is  very  pleasant  to  me 
that  you,  who  hold  your  official  post  by  appointment,  at 
the  same  time  value  so  highly  the  importance  of  public 
opinion  and  the  dignity  of  the  position  you  occupy  as  a 
trainer  of  youth,  one  of  those  to  whose  enlightening  soli- 
tude we,  the  parents,  entrust  our  most  priceless  inherit- 
ance, namely,  our  children,  the  heirs  of  our  name  and  of 
our  labours.  As  an  official  you  have  your  chief  in  the 
person  of  your  honoured  Head-Master,  but  as  a  member 
of  society  and  as  a  gentleman  you  have  always  the  privi- 
lege of  counting  on  .  .  .  the  co-operation  of  the  Marshal 
of  Nobility  in  questions  concerning  your  honour  and 
your  dignity  as  a  man  and  a  gentleman." 

As  he  continued  to  speak,  Veriga  rose  and,  pressing 
heavily  on  the  edge  of  the  table  with  the  fingers  of  his 
right  hand,  looked  at  Pcredonov  with  that  impersonally 
affable  and  attentive  expression  with  which  an  orator 
looks  at  a  crowd  when  pronouncing  benevolent  official 
speeches.  Peredonov  rose  also,  and  crossing  his  hands 
on  his  stomach,  looked  morosely  at  the  rug  under  the 
Marshal's  feet.    Veriga  went  on  : 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  turned  to  me,  because  in  our 
time  it  is  especially  useful  to  members  of  the  official 
classes  always  and  everywhere  to  remember  above  all 
things  that  they  arc  gentlemen  and  to  value  their  mem- 
bership of  this  class — not  only  in  the  matter  of  privileges 
but  also  in  responsibilities  and  in  their  dignity  as  gentle- 
men. Gentlemen,  in  Russia,  as  you  know,  arc  pre- 
eminently of  the  Civil  Service.  Strictly  speaking,  all 
governmental  positions,  except  the  very  lowest,  it  goes 
without  saying,  should  be  found  only  in  gentlemen's 
hands.  The  presence  of  commoners  in  the  Government 
service  constitutes  of  course  one  of  the  causes  of  unde- 
sirable occurrences  such  as  that  which  has  disturbed 
your  tranquillity.  Intrigue  and  calumny,  these  are  the 
weapons  of  people  of  lower  breed,  not  brought  up  in  fine 

110 


gentlemanly  traditions.  But  I  hope  that  public  opinion 
will  make  itself  heard  clearly  and  loudly  on  your  behalf, 
and  in  this  connection  you  can  fully  count  on  my  co- 
operation." 

"  I  thank  your  Excellency  most  humbly,"  said  Pere- 
donov,  "  and  I  am  glad  that  I  can  count  on  you." 

Veriga  smiled  amiably  and  did  not  sit  down,  giving 
Peredonov  to  understand  that  the  interview  was  closed. 
As  he  finished  his  speech  he  suddenly  realised  that  what 
he  had  said  was  out  of  place  and  that  Peredonov  was 
nothing  but  a  timorous  place-seeker,  knocking  at  doors 
in  his  search  for  patronage. 

As  the  footman  in  the  hall  helped  him  on  with  his 
coat  he  heard  the  sounds  of  a  piano  in  a  distant  room. 
Peredonov  thought  that  in  this  house  lived  people  of 
great  self-esteem  whose  manner  of  life  was  really  seig- 
neurial.  "  He  has  a  Governorship  in  view,"  thought 
Peredonov  with  a  feeling  of  respectful  and  envious 
astonishment. 

On  the  stairs  he  met  two  of  the  Marshal's  boys  return- 
ing from  a  walk  with  their  tutor.  Peredonov  looked  at 
them  with  morose  curiosity. 

"  How  clean  they  are  !  "  he  thought.  "  There's  not  a 
speck  of  dirt  even  in  their  ears.  How  alive  they  are,  and 
they're  trained  to  hold  themselves  straight  as  a  taut 
fiddle-string.  And  they're  never  even  whipped,  if  you 
please,"  thought  Peredonov. 

And  he  looked  angrily  after  them  as  they  ran  up  the 
stairs,  chattering  gaily.  It  astonished  Peredonov  that 
the  tutor  treated  them  as  equals — he  did  not  frown  at 
them  nor  did  he  scold  them. 

When  Peredonov  returned  home  he  found  Varvara  in 
the  drawing-room  with  a  book  in  her  hands,  which  was 
a  rare  occurrence.  Varvara  was  reading  a  cookery  book, 
the  only  one  she  had,  and  which  she  sometimes  looked 
into.    The  book  was  old,  ragged  and  had  black  binding. 

Ill 


The  binding  caught  Peredonov's  eye,  and  it  depressed 
him. 

"  What  are  you  reading,  Varvara  ?  "  he  asked  angrily. 

"  What  ?  Can't  you  see  ?  A  cookery  book,"  replied 
Varvara.    "  I  haven't  time  to  read  nonsense." 

"  Why  a  cookery  book  ?  "  asked  Peredonov  in  fright. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  why  ?  I  want  to  find  some 
new  dishes  for  you — you're  always  grumbling  about 
the  food,"  said  Varvara  with  a  sort  of  sarcastic  self- 
satisfaction. 

"  I  won't  eat  from  a  black  book,"  announced  Peredo- 
nov decisively,  and  quickly  tore  the  book  from  Varvara' s 
hands  and  took  it  into  the  bedroom. 

"  A  black  book  !  The  idea  of  preparing  dinners  from 
it  !  "  The  thought  filled  him  with  fear.  It  had  come  to 
that  :  he  was  to  be  ruined  openly  with  black  magic  ! 
"  I  must  destroy  this  awful  book,"  he  thought,  and  paid 
no  attention  to  Varvara's  grumbling. 

On  Friday  Peredonov  went  to  see  the  President  of  the 
District  Landlords'  Board. 

Everything  in  this  house  pointed  to  a  love  of  sim- 
plicity and  good  living,  and  to  the  fact  that  the  occupants 
had  public  interest  at  heart.  Many  objects  of  good  fur- 
niture, reminding  one  of  village  life,  were  about,  among 
other  things  a  chair  with  a  back  made  of  a  harness  arch 
and  hand  supports  resembling  axe  handles  ;  an  inkwell 
shaped  like  a  horse-shoe  ;  and  an  ash-pan  that  resembled 
a  peasant's  shoe.  Several  corn  measures  containing 
samples  of  corn  were  lying  about  in  the  parlour — on  the 
window-sills,  on  the  tables,  on  the  floor,  while  here  and 
there  were  pieces  of  "  hungry  "  bread* — dirty  lumps 
that  resembled  peat.  In  the  drawing-room  were  designs 
and  models  of  agricultural  machines.  Several  cases  of 
books  on  rural  economy  and  school  matters  encumbered 
the  study.  The  table  was  covered  with  papers,  printed 
*  Very  inferior  bread  used  during  the  famine. 
112 


forms,    paste-board   boxes   containing   cards   of   various 
sizes.    There  was  much  dust,  and  not  a  single  picture. 

The  master  of  the  house,  Ivan  Stepanovitch  Kirillov, 
was  very  anxious,  on  the  one  hand,  to  be  amiable — in  the 
European  fashion — on  the  other  not  to  detract  from  his 
own  dignity  as  a  district  landowner.  He  was  a  strange 
contradiction,  as  if  welded  from  two  halves.  It  was  evi- 
dent from  all  his  surroundings  that  he  did  a  great  deal 
of  work  with  intelligence.  But  to  look  at  him  you  might 
imagine  that  his  work  in  the  district  was  only  a  temporary 
distraction  and  that  his  real  cares  were  somewhere  before 
him.  This  was  evident  in  his  eyes,  which  now  and  then 
stared  into  the  distance — eyes  alert  yet  inanimate  in 
their  tinny  gleam.  It  was  as  if  someone  had  taken  out 
his  live  soul  and  put  it  into  a  long  box,  and  had  replaced 
it  with  a  skilful,  bustling  machine. 

He  was  of  low  stature,  thin,  youngish — so  youngish  and 
ruddy  that  now  and  then  he  looked  like  a  boy  who  had 
glued  on  a  false  beard  and  had  assumed  grown-up  manners 
with  complete  success.  His  movements  were  quick  but 
precise  ;  when  he  greeted  anyone  he  bowed  elaborately, 
and  he  seemed  to  glide  on  the  soles  of  his  fancy  boots. 
One's  impulse  was  to  call  his  clothes  a  "  small  costume  "  : 
he  wore  a  grey  jacket,  a  shirt  of  unstarched  batiste  with 
turned-down  collar,  a  blue  cord  tie,  narrow  trousers 
and  grey  socks.  And  his  always  courteous  conversa- 
tion was  also  ambiguous  :  he  would  speak  quite  gravely 
and  then  suddenly  an  ingenuous  smile,  like  a  child's, 
would  appear,  and  then  next  moment  he  would  be  grave 
again. 

His  wife,  a  quiet,  sedate  woman,  who  seemed  older 
than  her  husband,  came  into  the  study  a  number  of  times 
while  Peredonov  was  there,  and  each  time  she  asked  her 
husband  for  some  detailed  information  about  the  affairs 
of  the  district. 

Their  household  in  town  was  always  confused — there 
were    always    visitors   on    business    and    constant    teas. 

I— LITTLE   DEMON  113 


Hardly  had  Peredonov  seated  himself  when  they  brought 
him  a  glass  of  lukewarm  tea  and  some  rolls  on  a  plate. 

Before  Peredonov  arrived  there  was  already  a  visitor 
there.  Peredonov  knew  him — but  then  who  is  not  known 
to  everyone  in  our  town  ?  Everyone  knows  everyone 
else,  but  some  have  quarrelled  and  broken  off  the  ac- 
quaintance. 

This  was  the  District  physician,  Georgiy  Semcnovitch 
Trepetov,  a  little  man — even  smaller  than  Kirillov — 
with  a  pimply,  insignificant,  sharp-featured  face.  He 
wore  blue  spectacles,  and  he  always  looked  under  or  to  the 
side  of  them,  as  if  it  were  an  effort  to  look  at  his  com- 
panion. He  was  unusually  upright,  and  never  gave  a  single 
kopeck  for  anyone  else's  benefit.  He  detested  deeply 
everyone  who  was  a  government  official  :  he  would  go 
so  far  as  to  shake  hands  at  meeting  but  stubbornly 
refrained  from  conversation.  For  this  he  was  reputed  a 
shining  light — like  Kirillov — although  he  knew  very  little 
and  was  a  poor  physician.  He  was  all  the  time  getting 
ready  to  lead  the  simple  life,  and  with  this  intention  he 
looked  on  at  the  muzhiks  when  they  blew  their  noses  and 
scratched  the  back  of  their  heads  and  wiped  their  mouths 
with  the  back  of  their  hands  ;  when  he  was  alone  he 
sometimes  imitated  them,  but  he  always  put  off  his 
simplification  till  next  summer. 

Peredonov  here  also  repeated  his  usual  complaints 
against  the  town  gossip,  such  as  he  had  made  during  the 
last  few  days,  and  against  the  envious  people  who  wanted 
to  hinder  his  obtaining  an  inspector's  position.  At  the 
beginning  Kirillov  felt  rather  flattered  by  this  attention. 
He  exclaimed  : 

"  Now  you  can  see  what  goes  on  in  provincial  towns. 
I  always  said  that  the  one  deliverance  for  thinking  people 
is  to  join  hands — and  I'm  glad  that  you've  come  to  the 
same  conclusion." 

^Trepetov   snorted   angrily,    as   if  affronted.      Kirillov 
looked  at  him  timorously.    Trepetov  said  with  contempt*: 

114 


"  Thinking  people  !  "  and  then  he  snorted  again. 

After  a  short  silence  he  began  again  in  his  thin,  in- 
dignant voice  : 

"  I  don't  know  how  thinking  people  can  serve  a  musty 
classicism." 

Kirillov  said  irresolutely  : 

"  But,  Georgiy  Semenovitch,  you  never  realise  that  a 
man  does  not  always  choose  his  own  profession." 

Trepetov  snorted  contemptuously,  which  finally  settled 
the  amiable  Kirillov,  and  became  immersed  in  a  deep 
silence. 

Kirillov  turned  to  Peredonov  when  he  heard  that  he 
was  talking  of  an  inspector's  position.  Kirillov  looked 
worried.  He  imagined  that  Peredonov  wanted  to  be  an 
inspector  in  our  district. 

In  the  District  Council  there  had  matured  a  project  to 
establish  the  position  of  their  Inspector  of  schools,  who 
was  to  be  chosen  by  the  Council,  the  appointment  to  be 
approved  by  the  Educational  Commission. 

Then,  the  Inspector  Bogdanov,  who  had  charge  of  the 
schools  of  three  districts,  would  be  transferred  to  one  of 
the  neighbouring  towns,  and  the  schools  of  our  district 
would  be  turned  over  to  the  new  Inspector.  For  this 
position  the  members  of  the  Council  had  in  view  an 
instructor  in  a  pedagogical  seminary  in  the  neighbouring 
town,  Safata. 

"  I  have  patrons,"  said  Peredonov,  "  but  I'm  afraid 
that  the  Head-Master  here  will  harm  my  chances — yes, 
and  other  people  too.  All  sorts  of  nonsense  is  being  spread 
about  me.  So  that  in  case  of  any  inquiries  concerning 
me,  I  want  to  say  now  that  all  this  talk  is  rubbish.  Don't 
you  believe  any  of  it." 

Kirillov  replied  alertly  : 

"  I  have  no  time,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  to  give  attention 
to  all  the  town  rumours  and  gossip  ;  I'm  up  to  my  neck 
in  work.  If  my  wife  didn't  help  me,  I  don't  know  what  I 
should  do.    But  I  am  fully  convinced  that  all  that  is  being 

|15 


said  about  you — though  I  assure  you  I  haven't  heard 
anything — is  mere  gossip.  But  the  position  you  have  in 
view  doesn't  depend  on  me  alone." 

"  They  might  ask  you  about  it,"  said  Peredonov. 

Kirillov  looked  at  him  in  astonishment,  and  said  : 

"  Of  course  they  will.  But  the  real  jjoint  at  issue  is 
that  we  have  in  view  ..." 

At  this  moment  Kirillov's  wife  appeared  at  the  door 
and  said  : 

"  Stepan  Ivanitch,  just  a  moment." 

The  husband  went  to  her.  She  whispered  to  him  in 
a  worried  way  : 

"  I  think  you'd  better  not  tell  this  creature  that  we 
have  Krasilnikov  in  view.  I  mistrust  this  creature — he 
will  try  to  spoil  Krasilnikov's  chances." 

"  You  think  so  ?  "  whispered  Kirillov.  "  Yes,  yes, 
you  may  be  right.    It's  an  unpleasant  business." 

He  clutched  his  head. 

His  wife  looked  at  him  with  professional  sympathy 
and  said  : 

"  It  is  better  to  tell  him  nothing  at  all  about  it — as  if 
there  were  no  vacancy." 

"  Yes,  yes,  you're  right,"  whispered  Kirillov.  "  But 
I  must  run  along — it's  discourteous." 

He  ran  back  into  his  study  and  began  to  converse 
amiably  with  Peredonov. 

"  So  you  will — if  ..."  began  Peredonov. 

"  Please  rest  assured.  Please  rest  assured.  I'll  have 
it  in  view,"  said  Kirillov  quickly.  "  We  haven't  yet 
fully  decided  this  question." 

Peredonov  did  not  understand  to  what  question 
Kirillov  referred,  and  he  felt  oppressed  and  apprehensive. 
Kirillov  went  on  : 

"  We  are  establishing  a  school-map.  We've  had 
experts  from  Peterburg.  They've  worked  at  it  the 
whole  summer.  It  cost  us  nine  hundred  roubles.  We're 
preparing  now  for  the  District  meeting.     It's  a  remark- 

116 


ably  efficient  plan — all  distances  have  been  considered 
and  all  school  points  have  been  mapped  out." 

And  Kirillov  explained  the  school-map  minutely  and 
at  length,  that  is,  the  apportioning  the  District  into 
several  small  divisions,  with  a  school  in  each,  so  that 
every  village  would  have  its  school  close  at  hand.  Pere- 
donov  understood  nothing  of  this  and  became  entangled 
with  his  dull  thoughts  in  the  wordy  strands  of  the  net 
which  Kirillov  handled  so  deftly  and  quickly. 

At  last  he  took  his  leave,  hopelessly  oppressed.  In  this 
house,  he  thought,  they  did  not  want  to  understand  him 
or  even  to  listen  to  what  he  had  to  say.  The  host  babbled 
something  unintelligible.  Trepetov  snorted  angrily  for 
some  reason  or  other.  The  hostess  came  in  ungraciously 
and  walked  out  again — strange  people  lived  in  this  house, 
thought  Peredonov.    A  lost  day  ! 


117 


CHAPTER   XI 

Ox  Saturday  Percdonov  prepared  to  visit  the  Com- 
missioner of  Police.  "  Though  he  is  not  so  big  a  bird  as 
the  Marshal  of  the  Nobility,"  thought  Peredonov,  "  he 
might  do  me  greater  harm  than  anyone  else.  On  the 
other  hand  he  might  help  me  a  great  deal  with  the  authori- 
ties.   The  police  are,  after  all,  very  important." 

Peredonov  took  from  its  box  his  official  cap  with  its 
badge.  He  decided  that  henceforth  he  would  wear  no 
other  hat.  It  was  all  very  well  for  the  Head-Master  to 
wear  any  hat  he  liked — he  stood  well  with  the  authorities, 
but  Peredonov  was  still  seeking  his  inspector's  position  ; 
it  was  not  enough  for  him  to  depend  upon  patrons,  he 
must  do  something  himself  to  show  his  mettle.  Already, 
several  days  earlier,  before  he  had  begun  to  go  about 
among  the  authorities,  he  had  thought  of  this,  but  some- 
how his  hat  only  came  to  his  hand.  Now  Peredonov 
arranged  things  differently  :  he  threw  his  hat  on  top  of 
the  stove — to  make  certain  that  he  would  not  pick  it  up 
by  accident. 

Varvara  was  not  at  home  ;  Klavdia  was  washing  the 
floors.  Peredonov  went  into  the  kitchen  to  wash  his 
hands.  He  saw  on  the  table  there  a  roll  of  blue  paper 
from  which  a  few  raisins  had  fallen.  This  was  a  pound 
of  raisins  bought  for  the  tea-cake  to  be  baked  at  home. 
Peredonov  began  to  cat  the  raisins  as  they  were,  un- 
washed and  unstoned.  He  quickly  and  avidly  ate  the 
whole  pound  as  he  stood  at  the  table,  keeping  one  eye  on 
the  door  so  that  Klavdia  should  not  surprise  him.  Then 
he  carefully  folded  up  the  thick,  blue  paper  and  carried 
it  into  the  front  room  under  his  coat  and  there  put  it  in 

118 


the  pocket  of  his  overcoat  so  that  he  could  throw  it  away 
in  the  street  and  thus  get  rid  of  all  traces  of  it. 

He  walked  out.  Soon  Klavdia  went  to  get  the  raisins, 
and  then  began  to  hunt  for  them  unsuccessfully  in  a 
frightened  way.  Varvara  returned  and  discovered  the 
loss  of  the  raisins  and  began  to  abuse  Klavdia  :  she  was 
certain  that  Klavdia  had  eaten  them. 

It  was  quiet  in  the  streets  with  a  slight  breeze.  There 
was  only  an  occasional  cloud.  The  pools  were  drying  up. 
There  was  a  pale  glow  in  the  sky.  But  Peredonov's  soul 
was  heavily  oppressed. 

On  the  way  he  went  into  the  tailor's  in  order  to  hurry 
along  the  new  uniform  he  had  ordered  three  days  ago. 

As  he  walked  past  the  church  he  took  his  hat  off  and 
crossed  himself  three  times  elaborately  and  sweepingly, 
so  that  everyone  should  see  how  the  future  inspector 
walked  past  the  church.  He  was  not  accustomed  to  do  it 
before,  but  now  he  had  to  be  on  the  look-out.  It  was 
possible  that  some  spy  was  walking  stealthily  behind  or 
was  hiding  around  a  corner  or  behind  a  tree  and  was 
watching  him. 

The  Commissioner  of  Police  lived  in  a  remote  street  of 
the  town.  In  the  gates,  which  were  flung  wide  open, 
Peredonov  met  a  police  constable— a  meeting  which  now 
always  made  Peredonov  feel  dejected.  There  were 
several  muzhiks  visible  in  the  courtyard,  but  not  the 
kind  one  meets  everywhere — these  were  an  unusually 
orderly  and  quiet  sort.  The  courtyard  was  dirty.  Carts 
stood  about  covered  with  matting. 

In  the  dark  corridor  Peredonov  met  another  police 
constable,  a  small,  meagre  man  of  capable  yet  depressed 
appearance.  He  stood  motionless  and  held  under  his 
arm  a  book  in  black  leather  binding.  A  ragged,  barefoot 
girl  ran  out  from  a  side  door  and  helped  Peredonov  off 
with  his  coat ;  as  she  led  him  into  the  drawing-room, 
she  said  : 

119 


"  Please  come  in,  Semyon  Grigorycvitch  will  be  here 
soon." 

The  drawing-room  ceiling  was  low  and  this  oppressed 
Peredonov.  The  furniture  was  huddled  against  the  wall. 
Rope-mats  lay  on  the  floor.  To  the  right  and  to  the  left 
noises  and  whisperings  could  be  heard  behind  the  walls. 
Pale  women  and  scrofulous  boys  looked  out  from  the 
doors,  all  with  avid  glistening  eyes.  Among  the  whisper- 
ings certain  questions  and  answers  spoken  in  a  louder 
tone  could  be  heard  : 


brought 


Where  shall  I  take  this  ? 

"  Where  do  you  want  this  put  ?  " 

"  I've  brought  it  from  Ermoshkin,  Sidor  Petrovitch." 

The  Commissioner  soon  appeared.  He  was  buttoning 
up  his  uniform  and  smiling  amiably. 

"  Pardon  me  for  keeping  you  waiting,"  he  said,  as  he 
pressed  Peredonov's  hand  in  both  his  huge  grasping  hands. 
"  I've  had  many  business  callers.  Our  work  is  such  that 
it  won't  bear  delay." 

Semyon  Grigoryevitch  Minchukov  a  tall,  robust,  black- 
haired  man,  with  a  thinness  of  hair  on  the  top  of  his  scalp, 
stooped  slightly.  His  hands  hung  down  and  his  fingers 
were  like  rakes.  He  often  smiled  in  such  a  way  as  to 
suggest  that  he  had  just  eaten  something  that  was  for- 
bidden but  very  pleasant  and  was  now  licking  his  lips. 
His  lips  were  bright  red,  thick  ;  his  nose  fleshy ;  his 
face  was  eager,  zealous  but  stupid. 

Peredonov  was  perturbed  by  everything  he  saw  and 
heard  in  this  place.  He  mumbled  incoherent  words  and 
as  he  sat  on  his  chair  he  tried  to  hold  his  cap  in  such  a 
way  that  the  Commissioner  should  see  the  badge.  Min- 
chukov sat  opposite  him  on  the  other  side  of  the  table, 
very  erect,  and  kept  his  amiable  smile,  while  his  rake- 
like fingers  quietly  moved  on  his  knees,  opening  and 
shutting. 

"  They're  saying  I  don't  know  what  about  me,"  said 

120 


Peredonov.  "  Things  that  never  happened.  I  can  do 
some  informing  myself,  but  I  don't  want  to.  I'm  nothing 
of  what  they  say,  but  I  know  what  they  are.  Behind  your 
back  they  spread  all  sorts  of  scandal  and  then  laugh  in 
your  face.  You  must  admit  that,  in  my  position,  this  is 
very  annoying.  I  have  patronage,  but  these  people  go 
about  throwing  mud  at  me.  All  their  following  me 
about  is  useless.  They  only  waste  time  and  annoy  me. 
Wherever  you  go,  the  whole  town  knows  about  it.  So  I 
hope  that  if  anything  happens  you'll  support  me." 

"  Of  course,  of  course  !  with  the  greatest  pleasure  ! 
But  how  ?  "  asked  Minchukov,  gesticulating  with  his 
large  hands.  "  Still  the  police  ought  to  know  whether 
you  suspect  anyone." 

"  Of  course,  it's  really  nothing  to  me,"  said  Peredonov 
angrily.  "  Let  them  chatter  if  they  like.  But  they  might 
injure  my  position.  They're  cunning.  You  don't  notice 
that  they  all  chatter,  like  Routilov,  for  instance.  How 
do  you  know  that  he's  not  plotting  to  blow  up  the 
Treasury  ?    It's  one  way  of  shifting  the  blame." 

Minchukov  at  first  thought  that  Peredonov  was  drunk 
and  talking  nonsense.  Then  as  he  listened  further  he 
imagined  that  Peredonov  was  complaining  of  someone 
who  was  spreading  calumnies  about  him  and  that  he  had 
come  to  ask  Minchukov  to  take  certain  measures. 

"  They're  young  people,"  continued  Peredonov,  think- 
ing of  Volodin,  "  and  have  a  very  good  opinion  of  them- 
selves. They're  plotting  against  other  people  and  are 
dishonest  themselves.  Young  people,  as  everyone  knows, 
are  liable  to  temptation.  Some  of  them  are  even  in  the 
police  service,  and  they  too  are  busybodies." 

For  a  long  time  he  talked  about  young  people  but  for 
some  reason  or  other  did  not  want  to  name  Volodin.  At 
any  rate,  he  "wanted  Minchukov  to  understand  that 
certain  young  police  officials  were  not  free  from  his  sus- 
picions. Minchukov  concluded  that  Peredonov  was 
hinting  at  two  young  officials  in  the  police  bureau — two 

121 


very  young  men  who  were  rather  frivolous  and  were 
always  running  after  girls.  Peredonov's  confusion  and 
manifest  nervousness  infected  Minchukov. 

"  I'll  look  into  the  matter,"  he  said  with  some  anxiety. 
For  a  moment  he  was  lost  in  thought  and  then  again 
began  to  smile.  "  I  have  two  quite  young  officials — their 
mothers'  milk  isn't  dry  on  their  lips.  Believe  me,  one  of 
them  is  still  put  in  the  corner  by  his  mother,  honest  to 
God  !  " 

Pcredonov  broke  into  a  cackling  laugh. 

In  the  meantime  Varvara  had  gone  to  Grushina's 
house  where  she  learned  an  astonishing  piece  of  news. 

"  Varvara  Dmitrievna  darling,"  said  Grushina  rapidly, 
before  Varvara  had  time  to  cross  the  threshold,  "  I  have 
a  piece  of  news  for  you  that  will  make  you  stare." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Varvara. 

"  Just  think  what  low  people  there  are  in  this  world  ! 
What  tricks  they'll  play  to  reach  their  purpose  !  " 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Just  wait  and  I'll  tell  you." 

But  first  of  all  the  cunning  Grushina  gave  Varvara 
coffee  ;  then  chased  her  children  out  into  the  street, 
which  made  the  elder  of  her  girls  unwilling  to  go. 

"  Ah,  you  little  brat  !  "  Grushina  shouted  at  her. 

"  You're  a  brat  yourself  I  "  answered  the  little  girl 
and  stamped  her  foot  at  her  mother. 

Grushina  caught  the  child  by  the  hair,  pushed  her  out 
the  door  and  slammed  it.  .  .  . 

"  The  little  beast !  '  she  complained  to  Varvara. 
"  These  children  are  a  great  worry.  I'm  alone  with  them 
and  I  never  get  any  peace.  If  only  they  had  their 
father  !  " 

"  Why  don't  you  marry  again,  then  they'd  have  a 
father,"  said  Varvara. 

"  You  never  can  tell  how  a  man'll  turn  out,  Varvara 
Dmitrievna  darling.    He  might  treat  them  badly." 

122 


In  the  meantime  the  little  girl  ran  back  from  the  street 
and  threw  into  the  window  a  handful  of  sand  which  fell 
on  to  her  mother's  head  and  dress.  Grushina  put  her 
head  out  of  the  window  and  shouted  : 

'  Wait  till  I  catch  you,  you  little  devil,  and  see  what 
you'll  get !  " 

'  You're  a  devil  yourself,  you  silly  fool  !  "  shouted  the 
little  girl  from  the  street,  jumping  on  one  foot  and  clench- 
ing her  dirty  little  fist  at  her  mother. 
"  You  just  wait !  "  shouted  Grushina. 
And  she  shut  the  window.    Then  she  sat  down  calmly 
as  if  nothing  had  happened  and  began  to  talk  : 

'  I  have  a  piece  of  news  for  you,  but  I  don't  know  if  I 
ought  to  tell  you.  But  don't  worry,  Varvara  Dmitrievna 
darling,  they  won't  succeed." 

'  Well,  what  is  it  ?  "  asked  Varvara  in  affright,  and  the 
saucer  of  coffee  trembled  in  her  hand. 

"  You  know  that  a  young  student  by  the  name  of 
Pilnikov  has  just  entered  the  school  and  been  put  straight 
into  the  fifth  form  as  if  he'd  come  from  Rouban,  for  his 
aunt  has  bought  an  estate  in  our  district." 

'  Yes,  I  know,"  said  Varvara,  "  I  saw  him  when  he 
came  with  his  aunt.  Such  a  pretty  boy,  almost  like  a 
girl,  and  always  blushing." 

;'  But,  dearest,  why  shouldn't  he  look  like  a  girl  ?  He 
is  a  girl  dressed  up  !  " 

'  What  do  you  mean  !  "  exclaimed  Varvara. 

'  They've  thought  of  it  on  purpose  to  catch  Ardalyon 
Borisitch,"  said  Grushina  quickly  with  many  gesticula- 
tions, very  happy  that  she  had  such  important  news  to 
tell.  '  You  see  this  girl  has  a  first  cousin,  a  boy,  an 
orphan,  who  went  to  school  at  Rouban.  And  this  girl's 
mother  took  him  away  from  Rouban  and  used  his  papers 
to  send  the  girl  here.  And  you  will  notice  that  they  have 
put  him  in  a  house  where  there  are  no  other  boys.  He's 
there  alone,  so  that  the  whole  matter,  they  thought, 
would  be  kept  secret." 


"  And  how  did  you  find  out  ?  "  asked  Varvara  incredu- 
lously. 

"  Varvara  darling,  news  gets  about  quickly.  It  was 
suspicious  at  once  :  all  the  other  boys  are  like  boys,  but 
this  one  is  so  quiet  and  walks  about  as  if  he  had  just 
been  dipped  in  the  water.  To  look  at  he's  a  fine-looking 
fellow,  red-cheeked  and  chesty,  but  his  companions 
notice  that  he's  very  modest — they  tell  him  a  word  and 
he  blushes  at  once.  They  tease  him  for  being  a  girl. 
They  do  it  for  a  lark  and  don't  realise  that  it's  the  truth. 
And  just  think  how  shrewd  they've  been — why,  even  the 
landlady  doesn't  know  anything." 

"  How  did  you  find  out  ?  "  repeated  Varvara. 

"  But,  Varvara  darling,  what  is  there  that  I  don't 
know  !  I  know  everyone  in  the  district.  Why  everyone 
knows  that  they  have  a  boy  at  home  the  same  age  as  this 
one.  Why  didn't  they  send  them  to  school  together  ? 
They  say  that  he  was  ill  last  summer  and  that  he  was  to 
spend  a  year  recuperating  and  then  go  back  to  school. 
But  that's  all  nonsense.  The  real  schoolboy  is  at  home. 
And  then  everyone  knows  that  they  had  a  girl  and  they 
say  that  she  was  married  and  went  off  to  the  Caucasus. 
But  that's  another  lie — she  didn't  go  away.  She's  living 
here  disguised  as  a  boy." 

"  But  what's  the  object  of  it  ?  "  asked  Varvara. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  '  What's  the  object  ?  '  "  said 
Grushina  animatedly.  "  To  get  hold  of  one  of  the  in- 
structors— there  are  plenty  of  them  bachelors.  Or  perhaps 
someone  else.  Disguised  as  a  boy,  she  could  go  to  men's 
apartments,  and  there  isn"t  much  she  couldn't  do." 

"  You  say  she's  a  pretty  girl  ?  "  said  Varvara  in  appre- 
hensive tones. 

Rather  !     She's  a  fabulous  beauty  !  "  said  Grushina. 

She  may  be  a  little  constrained  now,  but  just  wait, 
she'll  get  used  to  things  and  show  her  true  colours.  She'll 
turn  plenty  of  heads  in  the  town.  And  just  think  how 
shrewd  they've  been  :   as  soon  as  I  found  out  about  this 

124 


It 


I  tried  to  meet  his  landlady,  or  perhaps  I  should  say  her 
landlady." 

"  It's  a  topsy-turvy  affair.  Pah  !  God  help  us  !  " 
said  Varvara. 

'  I  went  to  Vespers  at  the  parish  church  on  St.  Pante- 
lemon's  day.  She's  very  pious.  '  Olga  Vassilyevna,'  I 
say  to  her,  '  why  do  you  keep  only  one  student  in  your 
house  now  ?  '  'It  seems  to  me,'  I  say  to  her,  '  that  one 
is  not  enough  for  you.'  And  she  says,  '  Why  should  I 
have  any  more  ?  They're  a  great  trouble.'  And  so  I 
say,  '  Why,  in  past  years  you  used  to  have  two  or  three.' 
And  then  she  says — just  imagine,  Varvara  darling — 
'  They  stipulated  that  Sashenka  alone  should  live  in  my 
house.  They  are  well-to-do  people,'  she  says  to  me,  '  and 
they  pay  me  a  little  more,  as  if  they  were  afraid  that  the 
other  boys  would  do  him  harm.'  Now  what  do  you  think 
of  that  ?  " 

"  Aren't  they  sly  blighters,"  said  Varvara  indignantly. 
'  Well,  did  you  tell  her  that  he  was  a  wench  ?  " 

'  I  said  to  her  :  '  Olga  Vassilyevna,  are  you  sure  they 
haven't  foisted  a  girl  upon  you  instead  of  a  boy  ?  '  " 

"  Well,  and  what  did  she  say  ?  " 

"  She  thought  at  first  that  I  was  joking,  and  she 
laughs.  Then  I  say  to  her  more  seriously,  '  My  dear  Olga 
Vassilyevna,'  I  say,  '  d'you  know  they  say  that  this  is  a 
girl  ?  '  But  she  wouldn't  believe  me.  '  Nonsense,'  she 
says,  '  who  put  that  into  your  head  ?    I'm  not  blind.'  " 

This  tale  left  Varvara  dumbfounded.  She  believed  the 
whole  story  just  as  she  heard  it,  and  she  believed  that  an 
assault  from  yet  another  side  was  being  prepared  for  her 
intended  husband.  She  must  somehow  have  the  mask 
torn  off  this  disguised  girl  as  quickly  as  possible.  For  a 
long  time  they  deliberated  as  to  how  this  was  to  be  done, 
but  so  far  they  could  not  think  of  any  way. 

When  Varvara  got  home  her  annoyance  was  further 
increased  by  the  disappearance  of  the  raisins. 

When  Peredonov  returned  Varvara  quickly  and  agi- 

125 


tatedly  told  him  that  Klavdia  had  hidden  away  somewhere 
the  pound  of  raisins  and  would  not  admit  it. 

"  And  what  is  more,"  said  Varvara,  "  she  suggests 
that  they've  been  eaten  by  the  master.  She  says  that 
you  were  in  the  kitchen  for  some  reason  or  other  when 
she  was  washing  the  floors  and  that  you  stopped  there 
for  a  long  time." 

"  I  didn't  stop  there  at  all  long,"  said  Pcredonov 
glumly,  "  I  only  washed  my  hands  there  and  I  didn't  see 
an}^  raisins." 

"  Klavdiushka  !  Klavdiushka  !  "  shouted  Varvara, 
"  Master  says  he  didn't  even  see  the  raisins — that  means 
you  must  have  hidden  them  somewhere." 

Klavdia  showed  her  reddened,  tear-stained  face  from 
the  kitchen. 

"  I  didn't  take  your  raisins  !  "  she  shouted  in  a  tear- 
choked  voice.    "  I'll  pay  for  them,  but  I  didn't  take  them." 

"  You'll  pay  for  them  all  right,"  shouted  Varvara 
angrily.    "  I'm  not  obliged  to  feed  you  on  raisins." 

Peredonov  burst  out  laughing  and  shouted  : 

"  Diushka's  got  away  with  a  Avhole  pound  of  raisins  !  " 

"  Heartless  wretches  !  "  shouted  Klavdia,  and  slammed 
the  door. 

After  dinner  Varvara  could  not  help  telling  Peredonov 
what  she  had  heard  about  Pilnikov.  She  did  not  stop  to 
reflect  whether  this  would  help  her  or  do  her  harm,  or 
how  Peredonov  would  act — she  spoke  simply  from  malice. 

Peredonov  tried  to  recall  Pilnikov  to  his  mind,  but 
somehow  he  could  not  clearly  visualise  him.  Until  now, 
he  had  given  little  attention  to  this  new  pupil,  and 
detested  him  for  his  prettiness  and  cleanness,  and  because 
he  conducted  himself  so  quietly,  worked  well,  and  was  the 
youngest  of  the  students  in  the  fifth  form.  But  now 
Varvara's  story  aroused  in  him  a  mischievous  curiosity. 
Immodest  thoughts  slowly  stirred  in  his  obscure  mind. ;;  • 

"  I  must  go  to  Vespers,"  he  thought,  "  and  take  a  look 
at  this  disguised  girl." 

126 


Suddenly  Klavdia  came  in  rejoicing  and  threw  on  the 
table  a  piece  of  crumpled  blue  paper  and  exclaimed  : 

"  There  !  You  blamed  me  for  taking  the  raisins,  but 
what's  this  ?    As  if  I  needed  your  raisins." 

Peredonov  guessed  what  was  the  matter  ;  he  had  for- 
gotten to  throw  the  paper  bag  away  in  the  street  and  now 
Klavdia  had  found  it  in  his  overcoat  pocket. 

"  Oh  !    The  devil  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  What  is  it  ?    Where  did  you  get  it  ?  "  cried  Varvara. 

"  I  found  it  in  Ardalyon  Borisitch's  pocket,"  said 
Klavdia  triumphantly.  "  He  ate  them  himself  and  I'm 
blamed  for  it.  Everyone  knows  that  Ardalyon  Borisitch 
likes  sweet  things.  But  why  should  it  be  put  on  others 
when  .  .  ." 

"  Don't  go  so  fast,"  said  Peredonov,  "  you're  telling 
lies.    You  put  it  there  yourself.    I  didn't  touch  them." 

"  Why  should  I  do  that,  God  forgive  you !  "  said 
Klavdia,  nonplussed. 

"  How  did  you  dare  to  touch  other  people's  pockets  !  " 
shouted  Varvara.     "  Are  you  looking  for  money  ?  " 

'  I  don't  touch  other  people's  pockets,"  answered 
Klavdia  angrily,  "  I  took  the  coat  down  to  brush  it.  It 
was  covered  with  mud." 

"  But  why  did  you  put  your  hand  in  the  pocket  ?  " 

"  It  fell  out  of  the  pocket  by  itself,"  said  Klavdia, 
defending  herself. 

"  You're  lying,  Diushka,"  said  Peredonov. 

'  I'm  not  a  '  diushka  ' — what  sneerers  xyou  are  !  " 
shouted  Klavdia.  "  The  devil  take  you.  I'll  pay  for  those 
raisins  and  you  can  choke  on  them — you've  gorged  on 
them  yourself  and  now  I  must  pay  for  them.  Yes,  I'll 
pay  for  them — you've  no  conscience,  you've  no  shame, 
and  yet  you  call  yourself  gentry  !  " 

Klavdia  went  into  the  kitchen  crying  and  abusing 
them. 

Peredonov  suddenly  began  to  laugh  and  said  : 

"  She's  very  touchy,  isn't  she  ?  " 

127 


"  Yes,  let  her  pay  for  them,"  said  Varvara.  "  If  you 
let  them,  they'll  eat  anything,  these  ravenous  devils." 

And  for  a  long  time  afterwards  they  tormented  Klavdia 
with  having  eaten  a  pound  of  raisins.  They  deducted 
the  price  of  the  raisins  from  her  wages  and  told  the  story 
to  everyone  who  came  to  the  house. 

The  cat,  as  if  attracted  by  this  uproar,  had  left  the 
kitchen,  sidling  along  the  walls,  sat  down  near  Peredonov 
and  looked  at  him  with  its  avid,  evil  eyes.  Peredonov 
bent  down  to  catch  the  animal,  which  snarled  savagely, 
scratched  Peredonov's  hand  and  ran  and  hid  behind  the 
sideboard.  It  peeped  out  from  there  and  its  narrow 
green  eyes  gleamed. 

"  It  might  be  a  were- wolf  !  "  thought  Peredonov  in 
fear. 

In  the  meantime  Varvara,  still  thinking  about  Pilnikov, 
said  : 

"  Why  do  you  spend  all  your  evenings  playing  billiards  ? 
You  might  occasionally  drop  in  at  the  students'  lodgings. 
They  know  that  the  instructors  rarely  come  to  see  them 
and  that  the  inspector  only  comes  once  a  year,  so  that  all 
sorts  of  indecencies,  card-playing  and  drunkenness  go  on. 
You  might,  for  instance,  call  on  this  disguised  girl.  You'd 
better  go  late,  about  bed-time — that  would  be  a  good 
time  to  find  her  out  and  embarrass  her." 

Peredonov  reflected  a  while  and  then  burst  out  laugh- 
ing. 

"  Varvara's  certainly  a  sly  rogue  !  "  he  thought,  "  she 
can  teach  me  a  thing  or  two." 


128 


CHAPTER  XII 

Peredonov  went  to  Vespers  in  the  school  chapel.  There 
he  placed  himself  behind  the  students  and  looked  atten- 
tively to  see  how  they  behaved.  It  seemed  to  him  that 
some  of  them  were  mischievous,  talked,  whispered  and 
laughed.  He  noticed  who  they  were  and  tried  to  memorise 
their  names.  There  were  a  number  of  them  and  he 
reproached  himself  for  not  having  brought  a  piece  of 
paper  and  a  pencil  with  him  to  write  their  names  down. 
He  felt  depressed  because  the  students  behaved  so  badly 
and  no  one  paid  any  attention  to  it,  although  the  Head- 
Master  and  the  inspector  with  their  wives  and  children 
were  present.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  students  were 
orderly  and  quiet — some  of  them  crossed  themselves 
absently,  with  their  thoughts  far  away  from  the  church, 
others  prayed  diligently.  Only  very  rarely  did  one  of 
them  whisper  to  his  neighbour — two  or  three  words 
perhaps,  without  turning  their  heads,  and  the  other 
always  replied  as  briefly  and  quietly,  sometimes  with 
no  more  than  a  quick  movement,  a  look,  a  shrug  or  a 
smile.  But  these  insignificant  movements,  unnoticed  by 
the  form  master,  aroused  an  illusion  of  great  disorder  in 
Peredonov's  dull,  perturbed  mind.  Even  in  his  tranquil 
moments  Peredonov,  like  all  coarse  people,  could  not 
appraise  small  incidents  :  either  he  did  not  notice  them 
at  all  or  he  exaggerated  their  importance.  Now  that  he 
was  agitated  by  expectations,  his  perceptions  served  him 
even  worse,  and  little  by  little  the  whole  reality  became 
obscured  before  him  by  a  thin  smoke  of  detestable  and 
evil  illusions. 

And  after  all,  what  were  the  students  to  Peredonov 
even  earlier  ?     Were  they  not  merely  an  apparatus  for 

K— LITTLE    DEMON  129 


the  spreading  of  ink  and  paper  by  means  of  the  pen,  and 
for  the  retelling  in  ready-made  language  what  had  been 
said  before  in  live  human  speech  !  In  his  whole  educa- 
tional career  Peredonov  never  for  a  moment  reflected 
that  the  students  were  the  same  human  beings  as  grown- 
ups. Only  bearded  students  with  awakened  inclinations 
towards  women  suddenly  became  in  his  eyes  equal  to 
himself. 

After  he  had  stood  behind  the  boys  for  some  time  and 
gathered  enough  of  depressing  reflections,  Peredonov 
moved  forward  toward  the  middle  rows.  There,  on  the 
very  edge,  to  the  right,  stood  Sasha  Pilnikov ;  he  was 
praying  earnestly  and  often  went  down  on  his  knees. 
Peredonov  watched  him,  and  it  gave  him  pleasure  to  see 
Sasha  on  his  knees  like  one  chastised,  and  looking  before 
him  at  the  resplendent  altar  with  a  concerned  and  appeal- 
ing expression  on  his  face  ;  with  entreaty  and  sadness  in 
his  black  eyes  shaded  by  long  intensely  black  eyelashes. 
Smooth-faced  and  graceful,  his  chest  standing  out  broad 
and  high  as  he  rested  there,  calm  and  erect  on  his  knees, 
as  if  under  some  sternly  observing  eye,  he  appeared  at 
that  moment  to  Peredonov  altogether  like  a  girl. 

Peredonov  now  decided  to  go  directly  after  Vespers  to 
Pilnikov's  rooms. 

They  began  to  leave  the  church.  It  was  noticed  that 
Peredonov  no  longer  wore  a  hat  but  a  cap  with  a  badge. 
Routilov  asked  laughingly  : 

"  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  how  is  that  you're  strolling 
about  with  your  badge  nowadays  ?  That  comes  of  having 
an  inspectorship  in  view." 

"  Will  the  soldiers  have  to  salute  you  now  ?  "  asked 
Valeria  with  pretended  ingenuousness. 

"  What  nonsense  !  "  said  Peredonov  angrily. 

"  You  don't  understand,  Valerotehka,"  said  Darya. 
"  Why  do  you  say  soldiers  !  But  Ardalyon  Borisitch  will 
get  a  great  deal  more  respect  from  his  pupils  now  than 
before," 

130 


Liudmilla  laughed.  Peredonov  made  haste  to  take 
leave  of  them  in  order  to  get  away  from  their  sarcasms. 

It  was  too  early  to  go  to  Pilnikov  and  he  had  no  desire 
to  go  home.  Peredonov  walked  about  the  dark  streets 
wondering  how  he  could  waste  an  hour.  There  were 
many  houses,  and  lights  shone  from  many  windows, 
sometimes  voices  could  be  heard  from  the  open  windows. 
The  church-goers  walked  in  the  streets,  and  gates  and 
doors  could  be  heard  opening  and  shutting.  All  around 
lived  people,  strange  and  hostile  to  Peredonov,  and  it  was 
possible  that  at  this  very  moment  some  of  them  were 
devising  evil  against  him.  Perhaps  someone  was  won- 
dering why  he  walked  alone  at  this  late  hour  and  where 
he  was  going.  It  seemed  to  Peredonov  that  someone 
was  following  him  stealthily.  He  began  to  feel  depressed. 
He  walked  on  hurriedly  and  aimlessly. 

He  thought  that  every  house  here  had  its  dead.  And 
that  all  who  lived  in  the  old  houses  fifty  years  ago  were 
now  dead.    Some  of  the  dead  he  still  remembered. 

When  a  man  dies  his  house  should  be  burnt  afterwards, 
thought  Peredonov  dejectedly,  because  it  makes  one  feel 
horribly. 

Olga  Vassilyevna  Kokovkina,  with  whom  Sasha  Pil- 
nikov lived,  was  a  paymaster's  widow.  Her  husband 
had  left  her  a  pension  and  a  small  house,  which  was 
sufficiently  large  to  accommodate  two  or  three  lodgers, 
but  she  gave  preference  to  students.  It  so  happened 
that  the  quietest  boys  were  always  placed  at  her  house, 
those  who  studied  diligently  and  completed  their  courses. 
At  other  students'  lodgings  there  were  a  considerable 
number  of  boys  who  went  from  one  school  to  another  and 
always  left  their  studies  unfinished. 

Olga  Vassilyevna,  a  lean,  tall  and  erect  old  woman 
with  a  good-natured  face,  to  which,  however,  she  tried 
to  give  a  stern  expression  ;  and  Sasha  Pilnikov,  a  well- 
fed  youngster,  carefully  trained  by  his  aunt,  sat  at  the 

131 


supper  table.  That  evening  it  was  Sasha's  turn  to  supply 
the  jam,  which  he  had  bought  in  the  village,  and  there- 
fore he  felt  as  if  he  were  the  host  and  ceremoniously 
attended  to  Olga  Vassilyevna,  and  his  black  eyes  shone 
brightly.  A  ring  at.  the  door  was  heard — and  a  moment 
afterwards  Peredonov  appeared  in  the  dining-room. 
Kokovkina  was  astonished  at  such  a  late  visit. 

"  I've  come  to  take  a  look  at  our  pupil,"  he  said,  "  and 
to  see  how  he  lives." 

Kokovkina  asked  Peredonov  to  take  some  refreshment, 
but  he  refused.  He  wanted  them  to  finish  their  supper, 
so  that  he  could  be  alone  with  his  pupil.  They  finished 
their  supper  and  went  into  Sasha's  room,  but  Kokovkina 
did  not  leave  them  and  talked  incessantly.  Peredonov 
looked  morosely  at  Sasha,  who  was  timidly  silent. 

"  Nothing  will  come  of  this  visit,"  thought  Peredonov 
with  annoyance. 

The  maid-servant  for  some  reason  or  other  called  out 
for  Kokovkina.  Sasha  looked  dejectedly  after  her.  His 
eyes  grew  dull,  they  were  covered  by  his  eyelashes — and 
it  seemed  that  these  eyelashes,  which  were  very  long, 
threw  a  shadow  on  his  smooth  and  suddenly  pallid  face. 
He  felt  uneasy  in  the  presence  of  this  morose  man.  Pere- 
donov sat  down  beside  him,  put  his  arm  awkwardly 
around  him  and  without  altering  the  immobile  expression 
on  his  face  asked  : 

"  Well,  Sashenka,  has  the  little  girl  said  her  prayers 
yet  ?  " 

Sasha,  shamefaced  and  frightened,  looked  at  Pere- 
donov and  was  silent. 

"  Well  ?    Eh  ?  "  asked  Peredonov. 

"  Yes,"  said  Sasha  at  last. 

"  What  red  cheeks  you've  got,"  said  Peredonov. 
"  Well — a — you  arc  a  little  girl  ?  Yes  ?  A  girl,  you 
rogue  !  " 

"  No,  I'm  not  a  girl,"  said  Sasha,  and  suddenly  angry 
at  his  own  timidity,  he  asked  in  a  shrill  voice,  "  How  am 

132 


I  like  a  girl  ?  That's  the  fault  of  your  students  who  try- 
to  tease  me,  because  I  don't  say  nasty  words  ;  I'm  not 
used  to  saying  them.    Why  should  I  say  them  ?  ' 

"  Will  Mamma  punish  you  ?  "  asked  Peredonov. 

"  I  have  no  mother,"  said  Sasha.  "  My  mother  died 
long  ago.    I  have  only  an  aunt." 

"  Well  then,  will  Aunt  punish  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  she'll  punish  me  if  I  use  nasty  words.  It 
isn't  nice,  is  it  ?  " 

"  And  how  will  your  aunt  know  ?  " 

"  I  don't  like  it  myself,"  said  Sasha  quietly.  "  And 
there  are  several  ways  Aunt  may  find  out.  I  might  give 
myself  away." 

"  And  which  of  your  companions  say  nasty  words  ?  ' 
asked  Peredonov. 

Sasha  again  blushed  and  was  silent. 

"  Well,  go  on,"  insisted  Peredonov.  "  You've  got  to 
tell  me.    You  mustn't  conceal  things." 

"  No  one  says  them,"  said  Sasha  in  confusion. 

"  But  you  yourself  just  complained." 

"  I  did  not  complain." 

"  Why  do  you  deny  it  ?  "  said  Peredonov  angrily. 

Sasha  felt  himself  caught  in  a  detestable  trap.    He  said  : 

"  I  only  explained  to  you  why  some  of  my  companions 
tease  me  with  being  a  girl.  But  I  didn't  want  to  tell 
tales  about  them." 

"  So  that's  it.  And  why  so  ?  "  asked  Peredonov  in- 
dignantly. 

"  It  isn't  nice,"  said  Sasha  with  an  annoyed  smile. 

"  Well,  I  shall  speak  to  the  Head-Master  and  he'll 
make  you  tell,"  said  Peredonov  spitefully. 

Sasha  looked  at  Peredonov  with  anger  in  his  eyes. 

"  No,  please  don't  tell  him,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  he 
entreated. 

And  from  the  agitated  tones  of  his  voice  it  could  be 
perceived  that  he  tried  to  entreat  but  that  he  wanted  to 
shout  fierce,  insulting  words. 

133 


"  No,  I'll  tell.  Then  you'll  see  whether  you  can  hide 
nasty  things.  You  should  have  complained  of  them  at 
once.    But  just  wait,  you'll  get  it." 

Sasha  rose  and  in  confusion  he  shifted  his  belt.  Kokov- 
kina  entered. 

"  Your  quiet  one  is  a  good  boy,  I  must  say,"  said 
Peredonov  malignantly. 

Kokovkina  was  frightened.  She  quickly  walked  up  to 
Sasha  and  sat  down  at  his  side — in  her  agitation  she 
always^stumbled — and  asked  timorously  : 

"  What's  the  matter,  Ardalyon  Borisitch  ?  What  has 
he  done  ?  " 

"  You'd  better  ask  him,"  replied  Peredonov  with 
morose  spite. 

"What  is  it,  Sashcnka  ?  |What  have  you  done?" 
asked  Kokovkina,  touching  Sasha's  elbow. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Sasha  and  began  to  cry. 

"  Well,  what's  the  matter  ?  What  is  it  ?  Why  are 
you  crying  ?  "  asked  Kokovkina. 

She  laid  her  hands  on  the  boy's  shoulders  and  pulled 
him  towards  her ;  she  did  not  notice  that  this  disturbed 
him  further.  He  stood  there,  stooping,  and  kept  his 
handkerchief  to  his  eyes.     Peredonov  explained  : 

"  He's  being  taught  nasty  words  in  the  gymnasia  and 
he  won't  say  who  it  is.  He  oughtn't  to  conceal  things. 
He  not  only  learns  nasty  words  himself  but  he  shields 
the  other  boys." 

"  Oh,  Sashcnka,  Sashenka.  How  could  you  do  it  ? 
Aren't  you  ashamed  ?  "  said  Kokovkina  in  a  flustered 
way,  as  she  released  Sasha. 

"  I  did  nothing,"  replied  Sasha,  crying.  "  I  did  nothing 
that  was  wrong.  Indeed,  they  tease  me  because  I  don't 
use  bad  words." 

"  Who  says  bad  words  ?  "  asked  Peredonov  again. 

"  No  one  says  them,"  exclaimed  Sasha  in  despair. 

"  There,  you  see  how  he  lies  ?  "  said  Peredonov.  ''  He 
ought  to  be  well  punished.    He  must  tell  the  truth  as  to 

134 


who  says  these  nasty  words,  because  our  gymnasia  might 
get  a  bad  name  and  we  could  do  nothing  against  it." 

"  You  had  better  let  him  go,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  said 
Kokovkina.  "  How  can  he  inform  against  his  com- 
panions ?    They'd  make  his  life  unbearable  if  he  did." 

"  He's  obliged  to  tell,"  said  Peredonov  angrily.  "  Be- 
cause it  would  be  very  useful.  We  will  take  measures  to 
stop  it." 

"  But  they'll  beat  him,"  said  Kokovkina  irresolutely. 

"  They  won't  dare.  If  he's  afraid,  then  let  him  tell  in 
secret." 

"  Well,  Sashenka,  tell  in  secret.  No  one  will  know 
that  it's  you." 

Sasha  cried  silently.  Kokovkina  drew  him  to  her, 
embraced  him,  and  for  a  long  time  whispered  in  his  ear, 
but  he  shook  his  head  negatively. 

"  He  doesn't  want  to,"  said  Kokovkina. 

"  Try  a  birch  on  him,  then  he'll  talk,"  said  Peredonov 
savagely.    "  Bring  me  a  birch,  I'll  make  him  talk." 

"  Olga  Vassilyevna  !    But  why  ?  "  exclaimed  Sasha. 

Kokovkina  rose  and  embraced  him. 

"  That's  enough  crying,"  she  said  gently  but  sternly, 
"  no  one  shall  touch  you." 

"  As  you  like,"  said  Peredonov.  "  But  I  must  tell  the 
Head-Master.  I  thought  it  might  have  been  better  to 
keep  at  home.  Perhaps  your  Sashenka  really  knows  more 
than  he'll  tell.  We  don't  know  yet  why  he's  teased  with 
being  a  girl — perhaps  it's  for  something  else  entirely. 
Perhaps  it's  not  he  who's  being  taught,  but  he  who's 
corrupting  others." 

Peredonov  left  the  room  angrily.  Kokovkina  followed 
him.    She  said  reproachfully  : 

"  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  how  can  you  worry  a  boy  for  I 
don't  know  what  ?  It's  as  well  that  he  doesn't  under- 
stand what  you  say." 

"  Well,  good-bye,"  said  Peredonov  angrily.  "But  I 
shall  tell  the  Head-Master.     This  must  be  investigated." 

135 


He  left.  Kokovkina  went  to  console  Sasha.  Sasha  sat 
gloomily  at  his  window  and  looked  at  the  starry  sky. 
His  black  eyes  were  now  tranquil  and  strangely  sad. 
Kokovkina  silently  stroked  his  head. 

"  It's  my  fault,"  he  said.  "  I  told  him  why  they  were 
teasing  me  and  he  wouldn't  let  it  drop.  He's  a  very 
coarse  man.    Not  one  of  the  students  likes  him." 

The  next  day  Peredonov  and  Varvara  moved  into  their 
new  house.  Ershova  stood  at  the  gate  and  exchanged 
violently  abusive  words  with  Varvara.  Peredonov  hid 
himself  behind  the  furniture  vans. 

As  soon  as  they  got  in  they  had  their  new  house  blessed. 
It  was  necessary,  according  to  Peredonov's  calculations, 
to  show  that  he  was  one  of  the  faithful.  During  this 
ceremony  the  fumes  of  incense  made  his  head  dizzy  and 
induced  in  him  a  religious  mood. 

One  strange  circumstance  puzzled  him.  There  came 
running  from  somewhere  a  strange  indescribable  creature 
— a  small,  grey  and  nimble  nedotikomka.*  It  nodded, 
and  it  trembled,  and  circled  round  Peredonov.  When  he 
stretched  out  his  hand  to  catch  it,  it  glided  swiftly  out  of 
sight,  hid  itself  behind  the  door  or  the  sideboard,  but 
reappeared  a  moment  later,  and  trembled  and  mocked 
again — the  grey,  featureless,  nimble  creature. 

At  last  when  the  blessing  was  over  Peredonov,  sus- 
pecting something,  repeated  a  charm  in  a  whisper.  The 
nedotikomka  hissed  very,  very  quietly,  shrivelled  into  a 
little  ball  and  rolled  away  behind  the  door.  Peredonov 
gave  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  Yes,  it's  good  that  it  has  rolled  away  altogether,  but 

*  Nedotikomka,  an  invention  of  the  author.  The  word  means 
"the  touch-me-not-creature."  It  is  presumably  an  elemental,  a 
symbol  of  the  evil  of  the  world.     Sologub  begins  one  of  his  poems — 

"The  grey  Nedotikomka 
Wriggles  and  turns,  round  and  round  me.  ,  .  ." 

136 


it's  possible  that  it  lives  in  this  house  somewhere  under 
the  floor  and  will  come  out  again  to  mock  at  me." 

Pcredonov  felt  cold  and  depressed. 

"  What's  the  use  of  all  these  unclean  demons  in  the 
world  ?  "  he  thought. 

When  the  ceremony  was  over  and  the  visitors  gone 
Peredonov  thought  a  long  time  as  to  where  the  nedotikomka 
could  have  hidden  itself.  Varvara  left  with  Grushina, 
and  Peredonov  began  to  search  and  rummage  among  her 
things. 

"  I  wonder  if  Varvara  carried  it  away  in  her  pocket," 
thought  Peredonov.  "  It  doesn't  need  much  room.  It 
could  hide  in  a  pocket  and  stay  there  until  its  time  comes 
to  show  itself." 

One  of  Varvara's  dresses  attracted  Peredonov's  atten- 
tion. It  was  made  up  of  flounces,  bows  and  ribbons, 
as  if  made  purposely  to  hide  something.  Peredonov 
examined  it  for  a  long  time,  then  by  force  and  with  the 
help  of  a  knife  he  partly  tore,  partly  cut  away,  the  pocket 
and  threw  it  on  the  stove,  and  then  began  to  tear  and 
cut  the  whole  dress  into  small  pieces.  Strange,  confused 
thoughts  wandered  through  his  brain  and  his  soul  felt 
hopelessly  gloomy. 

Soon  Varvara  returned — Peredonov  was  still  cutting 
the  remains  of  the  dress  into  shreds.  She  thought  he 
was  drunk  and  began  to  abuse  him.  Peredonov  listened 
for  a  long  time  and  said  at  last  : 

"  What  are  you  barking  at,  fool !  Perhaps  you're 
carrying  a  devil  in  your  pocket.  I  must  think  about  it 
and  see  what's  going  on  here." 

Varvara  was  taken  aback.  Gratified  by  the  impression 
he  had  produced,  he  made  haste  to  find  his  cap  and  went 
out  to  play  billiards.  Varvara  ran  out  into  the  passage 
and  while  Peredonov  was  putting  on  his  overcoat  she 
shouted  : 

"  It's  you,  perhaps,  who're  carrying  the  devil  in  your 
pocket,  but  I  haven't  got  any  kind  of  devil.     Where 

137 


should  I  get  your  devil  ?    Shall  I  order  one  for  you  from 
Holland?" 

The  young  official,  Cherepnin,  the  man  about  whom 
Vershina  had  told  the  story  of  his  looking  into  the 
window,  had  paid  attentions  to  her  when  she  first  became 
a  widow.  Vershina  did  not  object  to  marrying  a  second 
time  but  Cherepnin  seemed  to  her  utterly  worthless. 
Therefore  he  felt  maliciously  towards  her. 

With  great  delight  he  fell  in  with  Volodin's  suggestion 
of  smearing  Vershina's  gate  with  tar.  j 

He  agreed,  but  later  he  felt  some  qualms.  Suppose 
they  should  catch  him  ?  It  would  be  awkward  ;  after 
all  he  was  an  official.  He  decided  to  shift  the  matter  on 
to  other  shoulders.  He  bribed  two  young  scapegraces 
with  a  quarter  of  a  rouble  and  promised  them  another 
fifteen  kopecks  each  if  they  would  get  it  done — if  they 
would  do  it  one  dark  night. 

If  anyone  in  Vershina's  house  had  opened  the  window 
after  midnight  he  might  have  heard  the  rustle  of  light 
feet  on  the  wood  pavement,  a  quiet  whispering  and  cer- 
tain soft  sounds  giving  the  impression  that  the  fence  was 
being  swept ;  then  a  slight  clinking,  a  fast  pattering  of 
feet,  going  faster  and  faster,  distant  laughing  and  the 
angry  barking  of  dogs. 

But  no  one  opened  the  window.  And  in  the  morning 
.  .  .  the  gate  and  the  fence  between  the  garden  and  the 
yard  were  covered  with  yellow-cinnamon  coloured  tax. 
Indecent  words  were  written  in  tar  on  the  gates.  Passers- 
by  stopped  and  laughed.  The  word  soon  went  round 
and  many  inquisitive  people  came. 

Vershina  walked  about  quickly  in  the  garden  and 
smoked  ;  her  smile  was  even  more  wry  than  usual  and 
she  mumbled  angrily.  Marta  did  not  leave  her  room  and 
wept  bitterly.  The  maid-servant  Marya  tried  to  wash 
off  the  tar  and  some  words  of  abuse  passed  between  her 
and  the  onlookers,  who  were  laughing  uproariously. 

138 


That  same  day  Cherepnin  told  Volodin  what  he  had 
done.  Volodin  wasted  no  time  in  telling  Peredonov. 
Both  of  them  knew  the  boys,  who  were  well-known  for 
their  daring  pranks. 

Peredonov  on  his  way  to  billiards  stopped  at  Ver- 
shina's.  The  weather  was  gloomy,  so  Vershina  and 
Marta  sat  in  the  drawing-room. 

"  Your  gates  have  been  smeared  with  tar,"  said 
Peredonov. 

Marta  blushed.  Vershina  quickly  related  how  they 
had  got  up  in  the  morning  and  saw  people  laughing  at 
the  gate  and  how  Marya  had  washed  the  fence. 

"  I  know  who  did  it,"  said  Peredonov. 

Vershina  looked  qucstioningly  at  Peredonov. 

"  How  did  you  find  out  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  found  out  all  right." 

"  Tell  us  then  who  did  it,"  said  Marta  crossly. 

She  had  become  altogether  unattractive  because  she 
now  had  tear-stained  eyes  with  red  swollen  eyelids. 
Peredonov  replied  : 

"  Of  course  I'll  tell  you — I've  come  for  that  reason. 
Such  impertinent  fellows  ought  to  be  punished.  But  you 
must  promise  not  to  say  who  told  you." 

"  But  why,  Ardalyon  Borisitch  ?  "  asked  Vershina  in 
astonishment. 

Peredonov  kept  significantly  silent.  Then  he  said  in 
explanation  : 

"  They're  such  dare-devils  that  they  might  break  my 
head  if  they  found  I'd  given  them  away." 

Vershina  promised. 

"  And  don't  you  tell  either,"  said  Peredonov  to  Marta. 

"  Very  well,  I  won't  tell,"  Marta  agreed  quickly  because 
she  wanted  to  know  as  quickly  as  possible  who  had 
done  it. 

She  thought  they  ought  to  be  made  to  suffer  a  cruel  and 
ignominious  punishment. 

"  No,  you'd  better  swear,"  said  Peredonov  cautiously. 

139 


"  Well,  honest  to  God,  I  won't  tell  anyone,"  said 
Marta,  trying  to  convince  him.     '  But  tell  us  quickly." 

Vladya  was  listening  behind  the  door.  He  was  glad 
that  he  had  not  thought  of  going  into  the  drawing-room  : 
he  would  not  be  compelled  to  promise  and  he  could  tell 
it  to  anyone  he  liked.  And  he  smiled  with  delight  to 
think  that  he  would  be  avenged  on  Peredonov. 

"  Last  night,  about  one  o'clock,  I  was  going  home 
along  your  street,"  began  Peredonov,  "  and  I  heard 
someone  moving  by  your  gate.  I  thought  at  first  it  was 
thieves.  '  What  shall  I  do  ?  '  I  thought,  when  suddenly 
I  heard  them  running  straight  towards  me.  I  pressed 
close  against  the  wall  and  they  didn't  see  me,  but  I 
recognised  them.  One  had  a  brush  and  the  other  had  a 
pail.  They're  well-known  rascals,  the  sons  of  Avdeyev, 
the  blacksmith.  They  ran,  and  I  heard  one  say  to  the 
other  :  '  We  haven't  wasted  the  night,'  he  said,  '  we've 
earned  fifty-five  kopecks.'  I  wanted  to  catch  one  of 
them  but  I  was  afraid  they  would  smear  my  face,  and 
besides  I  had  a  new  overcoat  on." 

No  sooner  had  Peredonov  gone  than  Vcrshina  went  to 
the  Commissioner  of  Police  with  a  complaint.  The  Com- 
missioner, Minehukov,  sent  a  constable  for  Avdeyev  and 
his  sons. 

The  boys  came  boldly,  thinking  they  were  suspected 
on  account  of  previous  pranks.  Avdeyev,  a  tall  dejected 
old  man,  was,  on  the  other  hand,  fully  convinced  that 
his  sons  were  guilty  of  some  fresh  mischief.  The  Com- 
missioner told  Avdeyev  of  what  his  sons  were  accused, 
and  Avdeyev  replied  : 

"  I  can't  control  them.  Do  what  you  like  with  them. 
I've  already  hurt  my  hands  beating  them." 

"  It's  not  our  doing,"  announced  the  elder  boy  Nil, 
who  had  curly  red  hair. 

"  No  matter  who  does  a  thing  we're  blamed  for  it," 
said   Ilya  the  younger,   whose  hair  was  also  curly   but 

140 


white.  "  We've  once  done  something  and  now  we  have 
to  answer  for  everything." 

Minchukov  smiled  amiably,  shook  his  head  and  said  : 

"  You'd  better  make  a  clean  breast  of  it." 

"  There's  nothing  to  confess,"  said  Nil. 

"  Nothing  ?  Who  gave  you  fifty-five  kopecks  for  your 
work,  eh  ?  " 

And  seeing  from  the  boys'  momentary  confusion  that 
they  were  guilty,  Minchukov  said  to  Vershina  : 

"  It's  obvious  that  they  did  it." 

The  boys  renewed  their  denials.  They  were  taken  into 
a  small  room  and  whipped.  Not  being  able  to  endure  the 
pain,  they  confessed.  But  even  then  they  were  unwilling 
to  say  who  had  given  them  the  money. 

"  We  did  it  on  our  own,"  they  said. 

They  were  whipped  again  until  they  confessed  that 
Cherepnin  had  given  them  the  money.  The  boys  were 
then  turned  over  to  their  father. 

"  Well,  we've  punished  them — that  is  their  father 
punished  them,"  said  the  Commissioner  to  Vershina, 
"  and  now  you  know  who's  responsible." 

"  I  won't  let  that  Cherepnin  off  easily,"  said  Vershina. 
"  I'll  prosecute  him." 

"  I  shouldn't  advise  you  to,  Natalya  Afanasyevna," 
said  Minchukov  abruptly.  "  You'd  better  let  the  thing 
drop." 

"  What !  Let  such  wretches  go  !  No,  never  !  "  ex- 
claimed Vershina. 

"  After  all,  you  have  had  no  real  proof,"  said  the  Com- 
missioner quietly. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  no  proof,  when  the  boys  them- 
selves have  confessed  it  ?  " 

"  That  doesn't  count,  they  might  deny  it  before  the 
judge  and  there'd  be  no  one  to  flog  them  there." 

"  How  can  they  deny  it  ?  There  are  the  constables 
who  were  witnesses,"  said  Vershina  confidently. 

"  Where  are  your  witnesses  ?     When  you  beat  a  man 

141 


he'll  confess  anything,  even  something  that  never  hap- 
pened. They're  rascals,  of  course,  and  they  got  what 
they  deserved.  But  you'll  get  nothing  out  of  them  in 
court." 

Minchukov  smiled  and  looked  calmly  at  Vcrshina. 

Vershina  left  the  Commissioner  very  dissatisfied,  but 
after  reflection  admitted  to  herself  that  it  was  difficult 
to  accuse  Cherepnin,  and  that  only  publicity  and  scandal 
would  come  of  it. 


142 


CHAPTER   XIII 

Towards  evening  Peredonov  appeared  before  the  Head- 
Master — to  talk  on  business. 

The  Head-Master,  Nikolai  Vlasyevitch  Khripatch  had 
a  certain  number  of  rules  which  were  sufficiently  practical 
and  not  difficult  to  keep.  He  calmly  fulfilled  all  the 
school  laws  and  regulations  and  also  kept  to  the  rules  of 
a  generally-accepted  mild  Liberalism.  This  was  why  the 
school  authorities,  the  parents  and  the  students  were 
equally  satisfied  with  the  Head-Master.  He  had  no 
moments  of  doubt,  no  indecisions  and  no  hesitations — 
what  was  the  use  of  them  ? — one  could  always  rely  on 
the  decisions  of  the  Pedagogical  Council  or  on  the  in- 
structions of  the  Educational  authorities.  He  was  no 
less  calm  and  correct  in  his  personal  relations.  His  very 
appearance  gave  the  impression  of  good-nature  and 
steadiness.  He  was  short,  robust,  active,  with  keen  eyes, 
and  with  a  confident  voice.  He  seemed  a  man  who 
ordered  his  life  well  and  who  was  always  ready  to  improve. 
There  were  many  books  on  the  shelves  in  his  study.  He 
made  notes  from  them.  When  he  had  accumulated  a 
sufficient  number  of  notes,  he  would  put  them  in  order 
and  paraphrase  them — that  was  how  a  text-book  was 
compiled,  published  and  circulated,  of  course  not  so 
successfully  as  the  text-books  of  Ushinsky  and  Evtoushev- 
sky  but  still  they  were  not  a  failure.  Sometimes  he  put 
together,  chiefly  from  foreign  books,  a  compilation  which 
was  very  respectable  and  quite  unnecessary  to  anyone 
and  published  it  in  a  periodical  equally  respectable  and 
equally  unnecessary.  He  had  a  number  of  children  and 
all  of  them,  boys  and  girls,  already  gave  indication  of 

143 


various  talents  :    some  wrote  verses,  some  drew,  some 
made  rapid  progress  in  music. 
Peredonov  said  morosely  : 

"  You're  always  down  on  me,  Nikolai  Vlasyevitch. 
Perhaps  someone  has  been  slandering  me  to  you,  but  I've 
done  nothing  of  the  kind." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  the  Head-Master  interrupted 
him,  "  I  don't  understand  what  slanders  you  have  in 
mind.  In  the  management  of  the  gymnasia  entrusted  to 
me,  I  make  use  of  my  own  observations,  and  I  dare  hope 
that  my  educational  experience  is  sufficient  to  estimate 
with  proper  correctness  what  I  see  and  what  I  hear,  all 
the  more  in  view  of  my  close  attention  to  my  duties 
which  I  have  made  an  unbreakable  rule." 

Khripatch  said  this  quickly  and  decisively,  and  his 
voice  sounded  dry  and  clear,  like  the  sharp  noise  given 
out  by  a  zinc  bar  when  bent.    He  went  on  : 

"  As  far  as  it  concerns  my  personal  opinion  of  you,  I 
still  continue  to  think  that  there  are  sad  lapses  in  your 
professional  activity." 

"  Yes,"  said  Peredonov  morosely.  "  You've  taken  it 
into  your  head  that  I'm  good  for  nothing.  Yet  I'm 
always  preoccupied  with  the  gymnasia." 

Khripatch  lifted  his  eyebrows  in  astonishment  and 
glanced  questioningly  at  Peredonov. 

"  You  haven't  noticed,"  continued  Peredonov,  "  that 
there's  a  possibility  of  a  scandal  in  our  gymnasia.  No 
one  has  noticed  it — I  alone  have  detected  it." 

"  What  scandal  ?  "  asked  Khripatch  with  a  dry  smile, 
pacing  up  and  down  his  study.  "  You  arouse  my 
curiosity,  though,  to  speak  candidly,  I  hardly  believe  in 
the  possibility  of  a  scandal  in  our  school." 

"  Yes,  but  you  don't  know  who  you  have  recently 
admitted  to  the  school,"  said  Peredonov  with  such 
malevolence  that  Khripatch  paused  and  looked  atten- 
tively at  him. 

"  I  know  all  the  new  students  perfectly  well,"  he  said 

J  44 


dryly.  "  Besides,  it  goes  without  saying  that  the  new 
boys  in  the  first  form  have  never  been  excluded  from 
another  school,  and  the  only  one  who  has  just  entered  the 
fifth  form  came  to  us  with  such  recommendations  that 
preclude  all  possibility  of  suspicion." 

"  Yes,  but  he  shouldn't  have  come  to  us  but  to  some 
other  kind  of  institution,"  said  Peredonov  morosely  and 
as  if  reluctantly. 

"  Please  explain,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  said  Khripatch. 
"  I  hope  you  don't  mean  to  say  that  Pilnikov  ought  to 
have  been  sent  to  a  Reformatory." 

"  No,  that  creature  should  be  sent  to  a  pension  where 
they  don't  learn  ancient  languages,"*  said  Peredonov 
maliciously,  and  his  eyes  gleamed  with  spite. 

Khripatch  put  his  hands  into  the  pockets  of  his  short 
jacket  and  looked  at  Peredonov  with  unusual  astonish- 
ment. 

"  What  pension  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Do  you  know  what 
institutions  are  designated  in  that  way  ?  And  if  you  do 
know,  how  could  you  venture  to  make  such  an  unseemly 
suggestion  ?  " 

Khripatch  flushed  violently  and  his  voice  sounded 
drier  and  even  more  decisive.  At  another  time  these 
symptoms  of  the  Head-Master's  anger  would  have  flustered 
Peredonov.    But  this  time  he  was  not  flustered. 

"  Of  course,  you  think  Pilnikov's  a  boy,"  he  said 
screwing  up  his  eyes  in  derision,  "  but  he's  not  a  boy  at 
all,  but  a  girl,  and  what  sort  of  a  girl  !  " 

Khripatch  uttered  a  dry,  abrupt  laugh,  but  his  laughter 
sounded  affected,  it  was  so  loud  and  mechanical — he 
always  laughed  like  that. 

"  Ha  !  Ha  !  Ha  !  "  he  laughed  mechanically,  and 
when  he  had  finished  laughing  he  sat  down  in  the  chair 
and  threw  his  head  back  as  if  he  had  dropped  exhausted 
from  laughing. 

"  You   astonish    me,    my    good    Ardalyon    Borisitch  ! 
*  This  expression  implies  a  house  of  ill-fame. 

L — LITTLE   DEMON  145 


Ha  !  Ha  !  Ha  !  Be  so  kind  as  to  tell  me  upon  what  you 
base  your  supposition,  if  the  premises  which  have  led 
you  to  this  conclusion  are  not  secret  !    Ha  !    Ha  !    Ha  !  " 

Peredonov  recounted  everything  that  he  had  heard 
from  Varvara,  and  incidentally  he  dilated  on  the  poor 
qualities  of  Kokovkina.  Khripatch  listened  and  now 
and  then  gave  vent  to  his  dry,  mechanical  laughter. 

"  I'm  afraid,  my  dear  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  that  your 
imagination  has  played  pranks  with  you,"  he  said,  as  he 
rose  and  caught  Peredonov  by  the  sleeve.  "  I,  as  well  as 
many  of  my  esteemed  friends,  have  children,  we're  not 
in  our  swaddling  clothes.  Surely  you  don't  think  that 
we  would  have  admitted  a  disguised  girl  as  a  boy  ?  ' 

"  That's  your  opinion,"  said  Peredonov.  "  But  if 
anything  should  happen  who's  going  to  be  responsible  ?  ' 

"  Ha  !  Ha  !  Ha  !  "  laughed  Khripatch.  "  What 
consequences  are  you  afraid  of  ?  " 

"  It'll  demoralise  the  school,"  said  Peredonov. 

Khripatch  frowned  and  said  : 

"  You're  presuming  too  far.  All  that  you  have  told 
me  so  far  doesn't  give  me  the  slightest  cause  for  sharing 
in  your  suspicion." 

That  same  evening  Peredonov  rapidly  went  round  to 
all  his  colleagues,  from  the  inspector  down  to  the  form- 
masters,  and  told  everyone  that  Pilnikov  was  a  girl  in 
disguise.  They  all  laughed  and  refused  to  believe  him, 
but  when  he  left  several  of  them  began  to  wonder  if  it 
were  not  true.  The  Masters'  wives  believed  it  immedi- 
ately. 

Next  morning  many  came  to  their  classes  with  the 
thought  that  Peredonov  was  possibly  right.  They  did 
not  speak  of  this  openly,  yet  they  no  longer  argued  with 
Peredonov  and  limited  themselves  to  indecisive  and 
ambiguous  answers  ;  each  was  afraid  that  he  would  be 
considered  stupid  if  he  argued  about  the  matter,  should  it 
afterwards  prove  to  be  true.    Many  would  have  liked  to 

146 


know  what  the  Head-Master  thought  of  it,  but  the  Head- 
Master  stopped  in  his  own  house  more  than  usual.  He 
came  very  late  to  the  one  lesson  he  gave  that  day  to  the 
sixth  form,  remained  there  hardly  more  than  five  minutes 
and  then  went  to  his  study  without  speaking  to  anyone. 

At  last,  before  the  fourth  lesson,  the  grey-haired 
Divinity  Master  and  two  other  instructors  went  to  the 
Head-Master's  study  on  the  pretext  of  business  and  the 
Divinity  Master  cautiously  led  up  to  the  subject  of 
Pilnikov.  But  the  Head-Master  laughed  so  confidently 
and  so  indifferently  that  all  three  became  convinced  that 
the  whole  thing  was  an  invention.  The  Head-Master 
quickly  went  on  to  other  subjects,  told  a  new  piece  of 
town  news,  complained  about  his  bad  headache  and  said 
that  he  would  probably  have  to  call  in  the  gymnasia 
doctor,  Evgeny  Ivanovitch.  Then  he  told  them  in  a 
very  good-natured  voice  that  his  lesson  that  day  had  only 
made  his  headache  worse,  for,  as  it  happened,  Peredonov 
was  in  the  next  class  and  the  students  had  for  some 
reason  or  other  laughed  frequently  and  with  extraordinary 
loudness.    Khripatch  laughed  dryly  and  said  : 

"  This  year  fate  has  not  been  kind  to  me — three  times 
a  week  I  am  compelled  to  sit  in  a  class-room  next  to 
Ardatyon  Borisitch,  And  just  imagine  !  There  is  constant 
boisterous  laughter.  One  would  think  that  Ardalyon 
Borisitch  was  not  at  all  an  amusing  man  and  yet  he 
always  arouses  merriment  !  " 

And  without  giving  them  time  to  comment  on  this, 
Khripatch  changed  the  subject. 

It  was  true  that  recently  there  had  been  a  good  deal 
of  laughter  at  Peredonov's  classes — though  they  did  not 
particularly  please  him.  On  the  contrary,  children's 
laughter  annoyed  Peredonov,  but  he  could  not  restrain 
himself  from  saying  things  which  were  malapropos  and 
unnecessary  :  now  he  would  tell  a  stupid  anecdote,  now 
he  would  try  to  subdue  one  of  the  most  quiet  boys  by 
sneering  at  him.    In  his  classes  there  were  also  a  number 

147 


of  boys  who  were  glad  of  every  opportunity  to  create 
disorder — and  at  every  one  of  Pcrcdonov's  sallies  they 
would  roar  with  laughter. 

After  school  Khripatch  sent  for  the  physician,  picked 
up  his  hat  and  went  into  his  garden  which  was  situated 
between  the  school  and  the  river-bank.  The  garden  was 
large  and  shady.  The  little  boys  loved  it.  They  were 
allowed  to  run  about  in  it  freely  during  recreation,  but 
this  was  the  reason  why  the  assistant  masters  did  not  like 
it.  They  were  afraid  that  something  would  happen  to  the 
boys.  But  Khripatch  insisted  that  the  boys  should  spend 
their  recreation  time  in  the  garden.  This  was  necessary 
in  order  to  make  his  reports  appear  more  imposing. 

As  he  walked  through  the  corridor  he  stopped  outside 
the  Gymnasium  hall  for  a  while,  and  then  walked  in  with 
bent  head.  From  his  cheerless  face  and  slow  walk,  every- 
one knew  that  he  had  a  headache. 

The  fifth  form  was  getting  ready  for  its  exercises. 
They  stood  in  a  row  and  the  Athletic  instructor,  a 
lieutenant  of  the  local  reserve  battalion,  was  about  to 
give  a  command,  but,  on  seeing  the  Head-Master,  he  went 
forward  to  meet  him.  Khripatch  shook  his  hand  and 
looking  somewhat  confusedlv  at  the  students  asked  : 

"  Are  you  satisfied  with  them  ?  Do  they  work  well  ? 
Do  any  of  them  get  tired  ?  " 

The  lieutenant  deep  in  his  heart  detested  those  students, 
who,  in  his  opinion,  had  not  and  could  never  have  a  mili- 
tary bearing.  If  they  had  been  cadets  he  would  have 
told  them  at  once  what  he  thought  of  them,  but  it  was  not 
worth  while  to  tell  the  unpleasant  truth  about  these 
sluggards  to  the  man  on  whom  these  lessons  depended. 
And  so  with  a  smile  on  his  thin  lips  he  looked  at  the 
Head-Master  in  a  friendly  way  and  said  : 

"  Oh,  yes,  they're  fine  boys." 

The  Head-Master  walked  past  some  of  the  boys  in  the 
line  and  was  about  to  leave  when  he  stopped  short  as  if 
he  had  suddenly  remembered  something. 

148 


"  And  are  you  satisfied  with  the  new  boy  ?  Is  he 
doing  well  ?  Does  he  tire  quickly  ?  "  he  asked  languidly 
and  cheerlessly,  putting  his  hand  to  his  forehead. 

The  lieutenant  said  for  the  sake  of  variety — the  boy 
in  any  case  was  a  stranger  : 

"  He's  a  little  frail — he  gets  tired  quickly." 

But  the  Head-Master  seemed  not  to  listen  to  him  and 
he  left  the  hall. 

The  outdoor  air  rather  refreshed  Khripatch.  He 
returned  in  half  an  hour  and  again  standing  in  the  door 
looked  on  at  the  exercises.  The  boys  were  using  various 
gymnastic  appliances.  Two  or  three  idle  students  who 
did  not  notice  the  Head-Master  were  leaning  against  the 
wall,  taking  advantage  of  the  fact  that  the  lieutenant  was 
not  looking  at  them.    Khripatch  walked  up  to  them. 

"  But  Pilnikov,"  he  said,  "  why  are  you  leaning  against 
the  wall  ?  " 

Sasha  flushed  violently,  straightened  himself  and  said 
nothing. 

"  If  you  get  tired  so  quickly  then  perhaps  the  exercises 
are  injurious  to  you,"  said  Khripatch  sternly. 

"  It's  my  fault,  I'm  not  tired,"  said  Sasha  timidly. 

"  You  must  choose  between  two  things,"  said  Khri- 
patch, "  either  not  to  attend  the  gymnastic  exercises  or 
...  In  any  case  come  in  and  see  me  after  the  exercises." 

He  went  away  hurriedly  and  left  Sasha  standing  con- 
fused and  frightened. 

"  You're  in  for  it,"  said  the  other  boys  to  him.  "  He'll 
lecture  you  till  evening." 

Khripatch  loved  to  deliver  lengthy  reprimands  and 
the  students  dreaded  his  invitations  above  everything. 

After  the  exercises  Sasha  timidly  went  to  the  Head- 
Master.  Khripatch  received  him  promptly.  He  went 
close  to  Sasha,  looked  intently  into  his  eyes  and  asked  : 

"  Tell  me,  Pilnikov,  do  the  gymnastic  exercises  really 
tire  you  ?  You  look  quite  a  healthy  youngster  but 
'  appearances  are  deceptive.'    Are  you  sure  you  haven't 

149 


some  illness  ?    Perhaps  it's  injurious  for  you  to  do  these 


exercises." 


"  No,  Nikolai  Vlasyevitch,  I'm  quite  well,"  answered 
Sasha,  red  with  confusion. 

"  However,"  said  Khripatch,  "  Alcksey  Alekseyevitch 
was  complaining  about  your  languidncss  and  that  you 
get  tired  soon.  And  I  myself  noticed  to-day  that  you 
had  a  tired  look.    Or  perhaps  I  was  mistaken  ?  " 

Sasha  did  not  know  how  to  shield  his  eyes  from 
Khripatch's  penetrating  look.  He  muttered  in  a  con- 
fused way  : 

"  I'm  very  sorry — I  won't  do  it  again — I  was  just  a 
little  lazy — really  I'm  quite  well.    I  will  work  hard  at  the 


exercises." 


Suddenly,  quite  unexpectedly  to  himself,  he  burst 
into  tears. 

"  You  see,"  said  Khripatch,  "  it's  obvious  that  you're 
tired  :  you  cry  as  if  I  had  given  you  a  severe  scolding. 
Now,  quiet  yourself." 

He  laid  his  hand  on  Sasha's  shoulder  and  said  : 

"  I  called  you  in  not  to  lecture  you  but  to  make  things 
clear.  .  .  .  Sit  down,  Pilnikov,  I  can  see  you're  tired." 

Sasha  quickly  dried  his  wet  eyes  with  his  handker- 
chief and  said  : 

"  I'm  not  a  bit  tired." 

"  Sit  down,  sit  doAvn,"  said  Khripatch,  not  unkindly, 
and  pushed  a  chair  over  to  Sasha. 

"  Really  I'm  not  tired,  Nikolai  Vlasyevitch,"  Sasha 
assured  him. 

Khripatch  took  him  by  the  shoulders  and  made  him 
sit  down,  sat  down  himself  opposite  the  boy  and  said  : 

'  Let's  talk  the  matter  over  quietly,  Pilnikov.  You 
yourself  cannot  tell  the  actual  condition  of  your  health. 
You're  very  good  and  conscientious  in  all  respects.  That 
is  why  I  can  understand  your  wanting  to  be  relieved  from 
the  gymnastic  exercises.  By  the  way,  I've  asked  Evgeny 
Ivanovitch  to  come  here  to-day  as  I  don't  feel  quite 

150 


myself ;  he  might  incidentally  look  at  you.  I  hope  you 
have  nothing  against  that  ?  " 

Khripatch  looked  at  his  watch  and  without  waiting 
for  an  answer  began  to  talk  with  Sasha  as  to  how  he  had 
spent  the  summer. 

Evgeny  Ivanovitch  Sourovtsev,  the  school  physician, 
a  little  dark  alert  man,  soon  appeared ;  he  delighted  in 
conversations  on  politics  and  news  generally.  His  know- 
ledge was  not  great  but  he  attended  his  patients  con- 
scientiously, and  as  he  preferred  diet  and  hygiene  to 
medicines  he  was  generally  successful  in  his  cases. 

Sasha  was  asked  to  undress.  Sourovtsev  examined  him 
attentively  but  found  nothing  wrong  with  him.  As  for 
Khripatch  he  was  now  convinced  that  Sasha  was  not  a 
girl.  Though  he  was  convinced  of  this  even  before,  still 
he  considered  it  proper  that  in  the  event  of  any  possible 
inquiries  from  the  district,  the  school  physician  could 
certify  to  the  facts  without  further  investigation. 

As  Khripatch  let  Sasha  go  he  said  to  him  kindly  : 

"  Now,  we  know  that  you're  well,  and  I  will  tell 
Aleksey  Alekseyevitch  that  he's  not  to  let  you  off  !  ' 

Peredonov  had  no  doubt  that  the  discovery  of  a  girl 
anions?  the  students  would  turn  the  attention  of  the 
authorities  to  himself,  and  that,  aside  from  promotion,  he 
would  be  given  a  decoration.  This  encouraged  him  to  look 
vigilantly  after  the  conduct  of  the  students.  As  the 
weather  for  some  days  now  had  been  bleak  and  cold, 
there  were  few  people  in  the  billiard-room,  so  there  was 
nothing  for  him  to  do  but  to  walk  about  town  and  visit 
students'  lodgings,  and  even  those  students  who  lived 
with  their  parents. 

Peredonov  chose  the  parents  who  were  simple  folk  ; 
he  would  come,  he  would  complain  about  the  boy,  the 
boy  would  be  whipped — and  Peredonov  would  be  satis- 
fied. In  this  way  he  first  of  all  complained  to  Yosif 
Kramarenko's  father,  who  kept  a  brewery  in  the  town— 

151 


he  told  him  that  Yosif  misbehaved  in  church.  The  father 
believed  him  and  punished  his  son.  The  same  fate  befell 
several  others.  Peredonov  did  not  go  to  those  who,  he 
thought,  would  defend  their  sons — they  might  complain 
to  the  authorities. 

Every  day  he  visited  at  least  one  student's  lodgings. 
He  conducted  himself  then  like  an  official,  he  reprimanded, 
gave  orders  and  threatened.  Still  the  students  felt  them- 
selves more  independent  in  their  own  lodgings  than  at 
school,  and  at  times  they  were  rebellious.  Aside  from  this 
there  was  Flavitskaya,  a  tall,  loud-voiced,  energetic 
woman,  who,  acting  on  Peredonov's  suggestion,  beat 
severely  her  young  lodger,  Vladimir  Boultyakov. 

On  the  following  day  Peredonov  would  relate  his 
exploits  to  his  class. 

He  did  not  name  his  victims  but  they  usually  gave 
themselves  away  by  their  embarrassment. 


152 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Rumours  that  Pilnikov  was  a  disguised  girl  soon  spread 
about  the  town.  Among  the  first  to  hear  of  it  were  the 
Routilovs.  The  inquisitive  Liudmilla  always  tried  to  see 
everything  new  with  her  own  eyes.  She  had  a  burning 
curiosity  about  Pilnikov.  Of  course,  she  would  have  to 
see  the  masquerading  trickster.  She  knew  Kokovkina, 
and  so  one  evening  Liudmilla  announced  to  her  sisters  : 

"  I'm  going  to  take  a  look  at  this  girl." 
'  Busybody  !  "  said  Darya  indignantly. 

''  She's  got  on  her  best  clothes,"  said  Valeria  with  a 
restrained  smile. 

They  were  annoyed  because  they  had  not  thought  of  it 
first  and  it  would  be  awkward  for  the  three  of  them  to  go. 
Liudmilla  was  dressed  more  elaborately  than  usual — she 
herself  could  not  tell  why.  Apart  from  other  considera- 
tions, she  liked  to  dress  up.  She  dressed  more  lightly 
than  her  sisters  :  her  arms  and  her  shoulders  were  a  little 
more  bared,  her  dress  a  little  shorter,  her  shoes  a  little 
lighter,  her  stockings  a  little  thinner,  more  transparent 
and  of  a  flesh  colour.  At  home  she  liked  to  go  about  in  a 
petticoat,  without  stockings,  but  with  shoes  on  her  bared 
feet — moreover  her  petticoat  and  her  chemise  were  very 
charmingly  embroidered. 

The  weather  was  cold,  windy,  and  the  fallen  leaves 
floated  on  the  speckled  pools.  Liudmilla  walked  quickly, 
and  under  her  thin  cloak  she  almost  did  not  feel  the 
cold. 

Kokovkina  and  Sasha  were  drinking  tea.  Liudmilla 
looked  at  them  with  searching  eyes — they  were  sitting 
quietly,  drinking  tea,  eating  rolls  and  chatting.  Liudmilla 
kissed  Kokovkina  and  said  : 

153 


"  I've  come  on  business,  dear  Olga  Vassilyevna,  but 
that  can  wait — first  warm  me  up  with  a  little  tea.  But 
who  is  this  young  man  here  ?  " 

Sasha  flushed  and  bowed  uneasily.  Kokovkina  intro- 
duced them.  Liudmilla  sat  down  at  the  table  and  began 
to  gossip  in  an  animated  way.  The  townspeople  liked  to 
sec  her  because  she  could  recount  things  prettily.  Kokov- 
kina, who  was  a  stay-at-home,  was  openly  glad  to  see 
her,  and  welcomed  her  heartily.  Liudmilla  chattered  on 
merrily,  laughed,  and  jumped  up  now  and  then  to  mimic 
someone  and  incidently  to  tease  Sasha.  She  said  to 
Kokovkina  : 

"  You  must  feel  lonely,  my  dear,  from  sitting  always 
at  home  with  this  grumpy  little  schoolboy.  You  might 
look  in  on  us  now  and  then." 

"  But  how  can  I  ?  "  answered  Kokovkina.  "  I'm  too 
old  to  go  visiting." 

"  Don't  call  it  visiting,"  said  Liudmilla.  "  Just  come 
in  when  you  like  and  make  yourself  at  home.  This 
infant  needs  no  swaddling." 

Sasha  assumed  an  injured  expression  and  blushed. 

"  What  a  stick-in-the-corner  he  is,"  said  Liudmilla  to 
annoy  him,  and  nudged  Sasha.  "  You  ought  to  talk  to 
your  visitors." 

"  He's  still  only  a  youngster,"  said  Kokovkina.  "  He's 
very  modest." 

"  I'm  modest  too,"  said  Liudmilla  with  a  smile. 

Sasha  laughed  and  said  ingenuously  : 

"  Really,  are  you  modest  ?  " 

Liudmilla  burst  out  laughing.  Her  laughter,  as  always, 
was  delightfully  gay.  As  she  laughed,  she  flushed  very 
much  and  her  eyes  became  mischievous  and  guilty,  and 
their  glance  attempted  to  dodge  those  of  her  companions. 
Sasha  was  flustered  and  tried  eagerly  to  explain. 

"  I  didn't  mean  that — I  wanted  to  say  that  you  were 
very  gay  and  not  modest — and  not  that  you  were  im- 
modest." 

154 


Then  feeling  what  he  had  said  was  not  as  clear  as  it 
might  be,  he  grew  more  confused  and  blushed. 

"  What  impertinence  !  "  exclaimed  Liudmilla  laughing 
and  flushing.    "  What  a  jewel  he  is  !  " 

"  You've  embarrassed  my  Sashenka,"  said  Kokovkina, 
looking  affectionately  at  both  Liudmilla  and  Sasha. 

Liudmilla,  leaning  forward  with  a  cat-like  movement, 
stroked  Sasha's  head.  He  gave  a  loud,  embarrassed 
laugh,  turned  from  under  her  hands  and  ran  into  his 
room. 

"  My  dear,  find  me  a  husband,"  said  Liudmilla  without 
any  ado. 

"  Well,  you've  found  a  nice  matchmaker,  I  must  say  !  " 
said  Kokovkina  with  a  smile,  but  it  was  evident  from  the 
expression  of  her  face  that  she  would  have  undertaken  to 
make  a  marriage  with  great  enjoyment. 

"  How  are  you  not  a  matchmaker  and  why  shouldn't  I 
make  a  bride  ?  "  said  Liudmilla.  "  Surely  you  wouldn't 
be  ashamed  to  make  a  marriage  for  me." 

Liudmilla  put  her  arms  on  her  hips  and  danced  a  few 
steps  in  front  of  her  hostess. 

"  Well,"  said  Kokovkina,  "  what  a  wood  flower  you 
are  !  " 

"  You  might  do  it  in  your  spare  time,"  said  Liudmilla 
with  a  laugh. 

"  WThat  sort  of  husband  would  you  like  ?  "  asked 
Kokovkina  with  amusement. 

"  Let  him  be — let  him  be  dark — my  dear,  he  must 
certainly  be  dark,  very  dark,  dark  as  a — well,  you  have  a 
model  here — your  student — his  eyebrows  must  be  black 
and  his  eyes  languishing,  and  his  eyelashes  must  be 
long— long,  blue-black  eyelashes — your  schoolboy's  cer- 
tainly handsome — really  handsome — I'd  like  one  of  his 
sort." 

Soon  Liudmilla  made  ready  to  leave.  It  had  grown 
quite  dark.    Sasha  went  out  to  escort  her. 

"  Only  as  far  as  the  cabby,"  said  Liudmilla  in  a  gentle 

155 


voice,  and  looked  at  Sasha  with  her  caressing  eyes,  blush- 
ing guiltily. 

Once  on  the  street  Liudmilla  became  gay  once  more 
and  began  to  cross-examine  Sasha. 

"  Well,  are  you  always  at  your  lessons  ?  Do  you  read 
much  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  love  reading,"  replied  Sasha. 

"  Andersen's  fairy-tales  ?  " 

"  No,  not  fairy-tales,  but  all  sorts  of  books.  I  like 
history  and  poems  too." 

"  Do  you  like  poetry  ?  And  who's  your  favourite 
poet  ?  "  asked  Liudmilla  gravely. 

"  Nadson,  of  course,"*  replied  Sasha,  with  the  deep 
conviction  of  the  impossibility  of  any  other  answer. 

"So,  so  !  "  said  Liudmilla  encouragingly.  "  I  like 
Nadson  too,  but  only  in  the  morning.  In  the  evening, 
my  dear,  I  like  to  dress  up.  And  what  do  you  like  to 
do?" 

Sasha  looked  at  her  with  his  soft,  dark  eyes — they 
suddenly  became  moist — and  he  said  quietly  : 

"  I  like  to  caress." 

"  Well,  you  are  a  nice  boy,"  said  Liudmilla,  putting 
her  arm  on  his  shoulder.  "  So  you  like  to  caress  ?  But 
do  you  like  to  splash  f  in  your  bath  ?  " 

Sasha  smiled.    Liudmilla  went  on  : 

"  In  warm  water  ?  " 

"  Yes,  in  warm  and  in  cold,"  said  the  boy  shame- 
facedly. 

"  And  what  sort  of  soap  do  you  like  ?  " 

"  Glycerine." 

"  And  do  you  like  grapes  ?  " 

Sasha  began  to  laugh. 

*  Simon  Yakovlevitch  Nadson  (1862-86),  a  poet  of  considerable 
merit,  who  was  popular  in  spite  of  his  monotony  and  melancholy. 

t  This  word  in  Russian  is  "  poloskatsya"  and  is  a  pun  on  "las- 
katsya,"  which  is  to  caress. 

156 


'  You're  a  queer  girl !  It's  a  different  thing  and  you 
ask  as  if  it  were  the  same.    You  can't  take  me  in." 

'  As  if  I  wanted  to  !  "  said  Liudmilla  laughing. 

'  I  know  what  you  are — you're  a  giggler." 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  ?  " 

"  Everyone  says  so,"  said  Sasha. 

'  You're  a  little  gossip,"  said  Liudmilla  with  assumed 
severity. 

Sasha  blushed  again. 

'  Well,  here's  a  cabby.     Cabby  !  "  shouted  Liudmilla. 

"  Cabby  !  "  shouted  Sasha  also. 

The  cabman  came  up  in  his  shaky  drozhky. 

Liudmilla  told  him  where  to  go.  He  thought  a  while 
and  demanded  forty  kopecks.    Liudmilla  said  : 

"  Do  you  think  it's  far  ?  That  shows  that  you  don't 
know  the  road." 

'  Well,  how  much  will  you  give  ?  "  asked  the  cabman. 

"  You  can  take  which  half  you  like." 

Sasha  laughed. 

"  You're  a  cheerful  young  lady,"  said  the  cabby  with 
a  grin.    "  You  might  add  another  five-kopeck  piece." 

"  Thank  you  for  escorting  me,  my  dear,"  said  Liud- 
milla, as  she  pressed  Sasha's  hand  tightly  and  seated  her- 
self in  the  drozhky. 

Sasha  ran  back  to  the  house  thinking  cheerfully  about 
the  cheerful  maiden. 

Liudmilla  returned  home  in  a  cheerful  mood,  smiling 
and  thinking  of  something  pleasant.  The  sisters  awaited 
her.  They  sat  at  a  round  table  in  the  dining-room,  lit  up 
by  a  hanging  lamp.  The  brown  bottle  of  cherry-brandy 
on  the  white  tablecloth  looked  very  cheerful ;  the  silver 
paper  round  the  bottle's  neck  glittered  brightly.  It  was 
surrounded  by  plates  containing  apples,  nuts,  and  sweets 
made  of  honey  and  nuts. 

Darya  was  slightly  tipsy.  Her  face  was  red  and  her 
clothes  were  a  little  dishevelled  ;   she  was  singing  loudly. 

157 


Liudmilla  as  she  came  heard  the  last  couplet  but  one  of 
the  well-known  song  : 

"  Her  dress  is  gone,  aer  ree'l  '8  gone. 
Naked,  he  leads  her  naked  along  the  dune. 
Fear  drives  out  shame,  shame  drives  out  fear, 
The  shepherdess  is  all  in  tears  : 
'  Forget  what  you  have  seen.'  " 

Larissa  was  also  present.  She  was  sprucely  dressed. 
She  was  tranquilly  cheerful  and  eating  an  apple,  cutting 
off  the  slices  with  a  small  knife  and  was  laughing. 

"  Well,"  she  asked,  "  what  did  you  sec  ?  " 

Darya  stopped  singing  and  looked  at  Liudmilla. 
Valeria  leaned  her  head  on  her  hand  with  the  little  finger 
against  her  temple  and  smiled  responsively  at  Larissa. 
She  was  slender,  fragile,  and  her  smile  was  unreposeful. 
Liudmilla  poured  herself  a  cherry-red  liqueur  and 
said  : 

"  It's  all  nonsense  !  He's  a  real  boy  and  quite 
sympathetic.  He's  very  dark  and  his  eyes  sparkle,  but 
he's  quite  young  and  innocent." 

Then  she  burst  into  a  loud  laugh.  The  sisters  when 
they  looked  at  her  began  to  laugh  also. 

"  Well,  what's  one  to  say  ?  It's  all  Peredonovian 
nonsense,"  said  Darya,  and  waved  her  hand  con- 
temptuously ;  she  grew  thoughtful  for  a  moment,  leaning 
her  head  on  her  hands,  with  her  elbows  on  the  table.  '  I 
might  as  well  go  on  singing,"  she  said,  and  began  to  sing 
with  piercing  loudness. 

There  was  an  intensely  grim  animation  in  her  squeals. 
If  a  dead  man  should  be  released  from  the  grave  on 
condition  of  his  singing  perpetually,  he  would  sing  in  this 
way.  But  the  sisters  had  already  become  used  to  Darya's 
tipsy  bawling,  and  at  times  even  joined  in  with  her  in 
purposely  ranting  voices. 

"  Well,  she's  let  herself  loose,"  said  Liudmilla  laughing. 
It  was  not  that  she  objected  to  the  noise,  but  she  wanted 

158 


her  sisters  to  listen  to  her.  Darya  shouted  angrily,  in- 
terrupting her  song  in  the  middle  of  a  word  : 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you  ?  I'm  not  interfering 
with  you  !  " 

And  immediately  she  took  up  the  song  at  the  very 
place  she  had  left  off.    Larissa  said  amiably  : 

"  Let  her  sing." 

"  It's  raining  hard  on  me, 
There's  no  roof  for  a  girl  like  me " 

bawled  Darya,  imitating  the  sounds  and  drawing  out  the 
syllables  as  the  simple  folk-singers  do  to  make  a  song 
more  pathetic.     For  example,  it  sounded  like  this  : 

"  O-o-oh,  it's  a-rai-ai-ning  ha-a-a-rd  on  me-e-e  !  " 

Particularly  unpleasant  were  the  sounds  stretched  out 
where  the  accents  did  not  fall.  It  produced  a  superlative 
impression  :  it  would  have  brought  a  mortal  depression 
on  a  new  listener.  A  sadness  resounding  through  our 
native  fields  and  villages,  a  sadness  consuming  with  a 
hideous  flame  the  living  word,  debasing  a  once  living  song 
with  senseless  howling.  .  .  . 

Suddenly  Darya  sprang  up,  put  her  hand  on  her  hips 
and  began  to  shout  out  a  gay  song,*  dancing  and  snapping 
her  fingers  : 

"  Go  away,  young  fellow,  go  away — 

I  am  a  robber's  daughter 

A  fig  for  your  good  looks — 

I'll  stick  a  knife  in  your  belly. 

I'll  not  have  a  muzhik, 

I'm  going  to  love  a  bossiak."  t 

*  The  original  word  is  "  chastushka,"  which  is  a  town  song  put  to 
the  tune  of  an  old  folk-song.  This  is  a  recent  development  of  town 
life  in  Russia. 

t  "  Bossiak  "  is  literally  "  bare-foot,"  a  vagabond.  The  "  bossiak  " 
has  become  quite  a  marked  type  in  Russia  since  Gorky  took  to  writ- 
ing of  him.  The  bossiak  is  often  referred  to  in  a  satiric  way  in 
modern  Russian  literature. 

15Q 


Darya  danced  and  sang,  and  her  eyes  seemed  as  motion- 
less as  the  dead  moon  in  its  orbit.  Liudmilla  laughed 
loudly — and  her  heart  now  felt  faint,  now  felt  oppressed, 
from  gay  joyousness  or  from  the  cherry-sweet  cherry 
brandy.  Valeria  laughed  quietly  with  glass-sounding 
laughter,  and  looked  enviously  at  her  sisters  ;  she  wished 
she  were  as  cheerful  as  they,  but  somehow  she  felt  any- 
thing but  cheerful — she  thought  that  she  was  the  last, 
the  youngest,  "  the  left-over  "  ;  hence  her  frailty  and  her 
unhappiness.  And  though  she  was  laughing  she  was 
almost  on  the  point  of  bursting  into  tears. 

Larissa  looked  at  her,  and  winked — and  Valeria 
suddenly  grew  more  cheerful.  Larissa  rose,  and  moved 
her  shoulders — presently,  in  a  single  instant,  all  four 
sisters  were  whirling  round  madly,  as  in  a  mystic  dance, 
and,  following  Darya's  lead,  were  shouting  new  chastushki, 
one  more  gay  and  absurd  than  the  other.  The  sisters  were 
young,  handsome,  and  their  voices  sounded  loud  and  wild 
— the  witches  on  the  Bald  hill  might  have  envied  this  mad 
whirl. 

All  night  Liudmilla  dreamt  such  sultry  African  dreams  ! 

Now  she  dreamt  that  she  was  lying  in  a  smotheringly 
hot  room,  and  her  bedcover  slipping  from  her  left  her  hot 
body  naked — and  then  a  scaly,  ringed  serpent  crept  into 
the  room,  and  climbing  up  a  tree  coiled  itself  round  the 
branches  of  its  naked,  handsome  limbs.  .  .  . 

Then  she  dreamt  of  a  hot  summer  evening  by  a  lake 
under  threatening,  cumbrously-moving  clouds — she  was 
lying  on  its  bank,  naked,  with  a  smooth  golden  crown 
across  her  forehead.  There  was  a  smell  of  tepid  stagnant 
water  and  of  grass  withered  by  the  heat — and  upon  the 
dark,  ominous,  calm  water  floated  a  white,  powerful  swan 
of  regal  stateliness.  He  beat  the  water  noisily  with  his 
wings,  and,  hissing  loudly,  approached  her  and  embraced 
her — and  it  felt  delicious,  and  languorous  and  sad.  .  .  . 

And  both  the  serpent  and  the  swan,  in  bending  over 
her,  showed  Sasha's  face,  almost  bluely  pale,  with  dark, 

160 


enigmatically  sad  eyes — their  blue-black  eyelids,  jealously 
covering  their  witching  glance,  descended  heavily  and 
apprehensively. 

Then  Liudmilla  dreamt  of  a  magnificent  chamber  with 
low,  heavy  arches — it  was  crowded  with  strong,  naked, 
beautiful  boys — the  handsomest  of  all  was  Sasha.  She 
was  sitting  high,  and  the  naked  boys  in  turn  beat  one 
another.  And  when  Sasha  was  laid  on  the  floor,  his  face 
towards  Liudmilla,  and  beaten,  he  loudly  laughed  and 
wept — she  was  also  laughing,  as  one  laughs  only  in  dreams, 
when  the  heart  begins  to  beat  intensely,  and  when  one 
laughs  long,  unrestrainedly,  the  laughter  of  oblivion  and 
of  death. .  .  . 

In  the  morning  after  all  these  dreams  Liudmilla  felt 
that  she  was  passionately  in  love  with  Sasha.  An  im- 
patient desire  to  see  him  seized  hold  of  her — but  the 
thought  that  she  would  see  him  dressed  made  her  sad. 
How  stupid  that  small  boys  don't  go  about  naked  !  Or 
at  least  barefoot,  like  the  streets  gamins  in  summer  upon 
whom  Liudmilla  loved  to  gaze  because  they  walked  about 
barefoot,  and  sometimes  showed  their  bared  legs  quite 
high. 

"  As  if  it  were  so  shameful  to  have  a  body,"  thought 
Liudmilla,  "  that  even  small  boys  hide  it !  " 


M— LITTLE   DEMON 


161 


CHAPTER  XV 

Volodin  went  punctually  to  the  Adamenkos  to  give  his 
lessons.  His  hopes  that  the  young  woman  would  invite 
him  to  take  coffee  were  not  realised.  Each  time  he  came 
he  was  taken  straight  to  the  little  shanty  used  for  car- 
pentry. Misha  usually  stood  in  his  linen  apron  at  the 
joiner's  bench,  having  got  ready  what  was  necessary  for 
the  lesson.  He  did  obediently  but  unwillingly  all  that 
Volodin  told  him  to  do.  In  order  to  work  less,  Misha 
tried  to  drag  Volodin  into  conversation,  but  Volodin 
wished  to  work  conscientiously  and  refused  to  comply. 

"Mishenka,"  he  would  say,  "you  had  better  do  your 
work  for  a  couple  of  hours  and  then,  if  you  like,  we  can 
have  a  talk.  Then  as  much  as  you  like,  but  now  not  a 
bit — business  before  everything." 

Misha  sighed  lightly  and  went  on  with  his  work,  but 
at  the  end  of  the  lesson  he  had  no  desire  to  talk  :  he  said 
he  had  no  time  and  that  he  had  much  home  work  to  do. 

Sometimes  Nadezhda  came  to  the  lesson  to  see  how 
Misha  was  getting  along.  Misha  noticed — and  made  use 
of  the  fact — that  in  her  presence  Volodin  could  much 
more  easily  be  lured  into  conversation.  When  Nadezhda 
saw  that  Misha  was  not  working  she  immediately  said 
to  him  : 

"  Misha,  don't  be  lazy  1  " 

And  when  she  left  she  said  to  Volodin  : 

"  I'm  sorry  that  I've  interrupted.  If  you  give  him  a 
little  leeway  he  gets  very  lazy." 

At  the  beginning  Volodin  was  mortified  by  Nadezhda's 
behaviour  ;  then  he  thought  that  she  hesitated  to  ask 
him  to  take  coffee  in  case  there  should  be  gossip.  Then 
he  thought  that  she  need  not  have  come  to  look  on  at 

162 


the  lessons  at  all  and  yet  she  came — was  it  because  she 
liked  to  see  him  ?  So  Volodin  reasoned  to  his  advantage 
from  the  fact  that  Nadezhda  from  the  very  first  had 
eagerly  agreed  that  he  should  give  lessons  and  had  not 
stopped  to  bargain.  He  was  encouraged  in  these  sup- 
positions by  Peredonov  and  Varvara. 

"  It  is  clear  that  she's  in  love  with  you,"  said  Peredonov. 

"  And  what  better  fiance  could  she  have  ?  "  added 
Varvara. 

Volodin  tried  to  look  modest  and  felt  pleased  with  his 
prospects. 

Once  Peredonov  said  to  him  : 

"  You're  a  fiance  and  yet  you  wear  that  shabby  tie  !  " 

"  I'm  not  her  fiance  yet,  Ardasha,"  said  Volodin 
soberly,  nevertheless  trembling  with  pleasure.  "  But  I 
can  easily  get  a  new  tie." 

"  Buy  yourself  one  with  a  pattern  in  it,"  advised 
Peredonov.  "  So  that  it  will  be  clear  that  love  is  burning 
within  you." 

"  Better  get  a  red  one,"  said  Varvara,  "  and  the  fancier 
the  better.  And  a  tie-pin.  You  can  buy  a  tie-pin  cheaply 
and  with  a  stone  too — it  will  be  quite  chic." 

Peredonov  thought  that  possibly  Volodin  had  not 
enough  money.  Or  he  might  think  of  economising  and 
buy  a  simple  black  one.  And  that  would  be  fatal,  thought 
Peredonov  :  Adamenko  is  a  fashionable  girl  and  if  he 
should  come  to  propose  to  her  in  any  kind  of  a  tie  she 
might  be  offended  and  reject  him.    Peredonov  said  : 

"  Only  don't  buy  a  cheap  one.  Pavloushka,  you've  won 
from  me  enough  money  to  pay  for  a  tie.  How  much  do 
I  owe  you  ?  I  think  it's  one  rouble  forty  kopecks,  isn't 
it  ?  " 

"You're  quite  right  about  the  forty  kopecks,"  said 
Volodin  with  a  wry  smile,  "  only  it's  not  one  rouble  but 
two." 

Peredonov  knew  himself  that  it  was  two  roubles,  but 
it  was  more  pleasant  to  pay  only  one.    He  said  : 

163 


"  You're  a  liar  !    What  two  roubles  ?  " 

"  Varvara  Dmitrievna's  my  witness,"  said  Volodin. 

"  You'd  better  pay,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  said  Var- 
vara, "  since  you  lost — and  I  remember  that  it  was  two 
forty." 

Percdonov  thought  that  as  Varvara  was  interceding 
for  Volodin,  that  meant  that  she  was  going  over  to  his 
side.  He  frowned,  produced  the  money  from  his  purse 
and  said  : 

"  All  right,  let  it  be  two  forty — it  won't  ruin  me. 
You're  a  poor  man,  Pavloushka.    Well,  here  it  is." 

Volodin  took  the  money,  counted  it,  then  assumed  an 
offended  expression  and  bent  down  his  thick  forehead, 
stuck  out  his  lower  lip  and  said  in  a  bleating,  cracked 
voice  : 

"  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  you  happen  to  be  in  debt  to  me 
and  therefore  you've  got  to  pay,  and  that  I  happen  to 
be  poor  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  matter.  I  haven't  yet 
come  down  to  begging  my  bread  off  anyone,  and  as  you 
know  the  only  poor  devil  is  the  one  that  hasn't  any  bread 
to  eat,  and  as  I  eat  bread,  and  butter  with  it,  that  means 
I'm  not  poor." 

And  he  became  mollified  and  at  the  same  time  blushed 
with  joy  to  think  that  he  had  answered  so  cleverly,  and 
twisted  his  lips  into  a  smile. 

At  last  Peredonov  and  Volodin  decided  to  go  and  fix 
up  the  match.  They  arranged  themselves  very  elabor- 
ately and  they  had  a  solemn  and  more  than  usually 
stupid  look.  Percdonov  put  on  a  white  stock.  Volodin 
a  vivid  red  tie  with  green  stripes.  Peredonov  argued 
thus  : 

"  As  I  am  to  do  the  match-making,  mine  is  a  sober 
role.  I  must  live  up  to  it.  So  I  must  wear  a  white  tie, 
and  you,  the  lover,  should  show  your  flaming  feelings." 

With  intense  solemnity  Peredonov  and  Volodin  seated 
themselves  in  the  Adamenkos'  drawing-room.    Peredonov 

164 


sat  on  a  sofa  and  Volodin  in  an  arm-chair.  Nadezhda 
looked  at  her  visitors  in  astonishment.  The  visitors 
talked  about  the  weather  and  various  bits  of  news,  with 
the  look  of  people  who  had  come  upon  a  delicate  affair 
and  did  not  know  how  to  approach  it.  At  last  Peredonov 
coughed,  frowned  and  began  : 

"  Nadezhda  Vassilyevna,  we've  come  on  business." 
'  On   business,"    said   Volodin,    making   a   significant 
face  ;  and  he  protruded  his  lips. 

''  It's  about  him,"  said  Peredonov,  and  pointed  at 
Volodin  with  his  forefinger. 

'  It's  about  me,"  echoed  Volodin,  and  pointed  his 
own  forefinger  at  his  breast. 

Nadezhda  smiled. 

"  Please  go  on,"  she  said. 

"  I'm  going  to  speak  for  him,"  said  Peredonov.  "  He's 
bashful,  he  can't  make  up  his  mind  to  do  it  himself.  He's 
a  worthy,  non-drinking,  good  man.  He  does  not  earn 
much,  but  that's  nothing.  Everyone  needs  a  different 
thing — one  needs  money,  another  needs  a  man.  Well, 
why  don't  you  say  something  ?  "  He  turned  to  Volodin, 
"  Say  something  !  " 

Volodin  lowered  his  head  and  spoke  in  a  trembling 
voice,  like  a  bleating  ram  : 

"  It's  true  I  don't  earn  high  wages.  But  I  shall  always 
have  my  crumb  of  bread.  It's  true  that  I  didn't  go  to  a 
university,  but  I  live  as  may  God  grant  everyone  to  do. 
But  I  don't  know  anything  against  myself — and  besides, 
let  everyone  judge  for  himself.  But  I,  well,  I'm  satisfied 
with  myself." 

He  spread  out  his  arms,  lowered  his  forehead  as  if  he 
were  about  to  butt  and  grew  silent. 

"  And  so,  as  you  see,"  said  Peredonov,  "  he's  a  young 
man.  And  he  shouldn't  live  like  this.  He  ought  to 
marry.    In  any  case  the  married  man  is  always  better  off." 

"  And  if  his  wife  suits  him,  what  can  be  better  ?  "  added 
Volodin. 

165 


"  And  you,"  continued  Peredonov,  "  are  a  girl.  You 
also  ought  to  marry." 

From  behind  the  door  there  came  a  slight  rustle, 
abrupt  smothered  sounds,  as  though  someone  were 
breathing  or  laughing  with  a  closed  mouth.  Nadezhda 
looked  sternly  in  the  direction  of  the  door  and  said 
coldly  : 

"  You  are  too  concerned  about  me,"  with  an  annoying 
emphasis  on  the  word  "  too." 

"  You  don't  want  a  rich  husband,"  said  Peredonov, 
"  you're  rich  yourself.  You  need  someone  to  love  you 
and  gratify  you  in  everything.  And  you  know  him,  you 
could  understand  him.  He's  not  indifferent  to  you  and 
perhaps  you're  not  indifferent  to  him  either.  So  you  see 
I  have  the  merchant  and  you  have  the  goods.  That  is, 
you  are  the  goods  yourself." 

Nadezhda  blushed  and  bit  her  lip  to  keep  from  laugh- 
ing. The  same  sounds  continued  behind  the  door. 
Volodin  bashfully  lowered  his  eyes.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  his  affair  was  going  well. 

"  What  goods  ?  "  asked  Nadezhda  cautiously.  "  Par- 
don me,  I  don't  understand." 

"  What   do   you   mean,    '  you   don't   understand  '  ?  ' 
asked   Peredonov   incredulously.      "  Well,    I'll   tell   you 
straight.     Pavel  Vassilyevitch  has  come  to  ask  for  your 
hand  and  heart.    I  ask  on  his  behalf." 

Behind  the  door  something  fell  to  the  floor  and  rolled 
and  snorted  and  panted.  Nadezhda,  growing  red  with 
suppressed  laughter,  looked  at  her  visitors.  Volodin's 
proposal  seemed  to  her  a  ridiculous  impertinence. 

"  Yes,"  said  Volodin,  "  Nadezhda  Vassilyevna,  I've 
come  to  ask  for  your  hand  and  heart." 

He  grew  red  and  rose  from  his  chair — his  foot  awk- 
wardly rumpled  the  carpet — bowed  and  quickly  sat  down 
again.  Then  he  got  up  again,  put  his  hand  on  his  heart 
and  said  as  he  looked  tenderly  at  the  girl  : 

"  Nadezhda   Vassilyevna,    permit   me   to    say    a   few 

166 


words  !  As  I  have  loved  you  for  some  time  you  surely 
will  not  say  '  no  '  to  me  ?  " 

He  threw  himself  forward  and  let  himself  down  on  one 
knee  before  Nadezhda  and  kissed  her  hand. 

''  Nadezhda  Vassilyevna,  believe  me  !  I  swear  to 
you  1  "  he  exclaimed,  and  lifted  his  hand  high  in  the  air 
and  with  a  wild  swing  hit  himself  full  on  the  chest  so 
that  the  sound  re-echoed  through  the  room, 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you  !  Please  get  up,"  said 
Nadezhda  in  embarrassment.  "  Why  are  you  doing 
this  ?  " 

Volodin  rose  and  with  an  injured  expression  on  his  face 
returned  to  his  seat.  There  he  pressed  both  his  hands 
on  his  chest  and  again  exclaimed  : 

"  Nadezhda  Vassilyevna,  do  believe  me  !  Until  death, 
from  all  my  soul." 

"  I'm  sorry,"  said  Nadezhda,  "  but  I  really  can't.  I 
must  bring  up  my  brother — even  now  he's  crying  behind 
the  door." 

"  Bring  up  your  brother,"  said  Volodin,  protruding  an 
offended  lip.    "  I  fail  to  see  why  that  should  prevent  it." 

"  No,  in  any  case  it  concerns  him,"  said  Nadezhda, 
rising  hurriedly.    "  He  must  be  asked.    Just  wait." 

She  quickly  ran  from  the  drawing-room,  rustling  with 
her  bright  yellow  dress,  caught  Misha  by  the  shoulder 
behind  the  door  and  ran  with  him  to  his  room  ;  as  she 
stood  there  by  the  door  panting  with  running  and  sup- 
pressed laughter,  she  said  in  a  breathless  voice  : 

'  It's  quite  useless  to  ask  you  not  to  listen  behind 
doors.    Must  I  really  be  very  stern  with  you  ?  " 

Misha,  catching  her  by  the  waist,  with  his  head  against 
her,  laughed  and  shook  with  his  efforts  to  suppress  his 
laughter.  She  pushed  Misha  into  his  room,  sat  down  on  a 
chair  near  the  door  and  began  to  laugh. 

"  Did  you  hear  what  he's  thinking  of,  your  Pavel 
Vassilyevitch  ?  "  she  said.  "  Come  with  me  into  the 
drawing-room  and  don't  you  dare  to  laugh.     I  will  ask 

167 


you  in  their  presence  and  don't  you  dare  say  '  yes.'  Do 
you  understand  ?  " 

"  Oo-hoo,"  blurted  out  Misha,  and  stuck  a  corner  of 
his  handkerchief  in  his  mouth  to  stop  his  laughing,  but 
with  little  success. 

"  Cover  your  face  with  your  handkerchief  when  you 
want  to  laugh,"  his  sister  advised  him,  and  led  him  by 
his  shoulder  into  the  drawing-room. 

There  she  placed  him  in  an  arm-chair  and  sat  down  on 
a  chair  at  his  side.  Volodin  looked  offended  and  lowered 
his  head  like  a  little  ram. 

"  You  see,"  she  said,  pointing  at  her  brother,  "  I've 
barely  dried  his  tears,  poor  boy  !  I  have  to  be  a  mother 
to  him,  and  he  has  a  sudden  idea  that  I'm  going  to  leave 
him." 

Misha  covered  his  face  with  his  handkerchief.  His 
whole  body  shook.  In  order  to  hide  his  laughter  he 
uttered  a  protracted  moan  : 

"  Oo-oo-oo." 

Nadezhda  embraced  him,  pinched  his  hand  secretly 
and  said  : 

"  Well,  stop  crying,  my  dear,  stop  crying." 

Misha  for  a  moment  unexpectedly  felt  touched  and 
tears  came  into  his  eyes.  He  lowered  his  handkerchief 
and  looked  angrily  at  his  sister. 

"  The  youngster  might  suddenly  get  into  a  fit,"  thought 
Peredonov,  "  and  begin  to  bite  ;  human  spit,  they  say, 
is  poisonous." 

He  moved  closer  to  Volodin,  so  that  in  case  of  danger 
he  could  hide  behind  him.    Nadezhda  said  to  her  brother  : 

"  Pavel  Vassilyevitch  asks  for  my  hand." 

"  Hand  and  heart,"  corrected  Peredonov. 

"  And  heart,"  added  Volodin  modestly  but  with 
dignity. 

Misha  covered  his  face  with  his  handkerchief  and 
choking  with  suppressed  laughter  said  : 

"  No,  don't  marry  him.    What  would  become  of  me  ?  ' 

168 


Volodin,  hurt  but  agitated,  said  in  a  trembling  voice  : 
'  I'm  surprised,  Nadezhda  Vassilyevna,  that  you  are 
asking  your  brother,  who  is  besides  quite  a  child.  Even 
if  he  were  a  grown-up  young  man  you  might  speak  for 
yourself.  But  at  your  asking  him  now,  Nadezhda  Vas- 
silyevna, I  am  not  only  surprised  but  shocked." 

'  To   ask   little   boys   seems   ridiculous  to   me,"   said 
Percdonov  gravely. 

"  Whom  have  I  to  ask  ?  It's  all  the  same  to  my  aunt, 
and  as  I'm  responsible  for  his  upbringing  how  can  I  marry 
you.  Perhaps  you  would  treat  him  harshly.  Isn't  it  so, 
Mishka,  that  you're  afraid  of  his  harshness  ?  ' 

"  No,  Nadya,"  said  Misha,  looking  out  with  one  eye 
from  behind  his  handkerchief.  "  I'm  not  afraid  of  his 
harshness.  Why  should  I  ?  But  I  am  afraid  that  Pavel 
Vassilyevitch  would  spoil  me  and  not  allow  you  to  put 
me  in  the  corner." 

"  Believe  me,  Nadezhda  Vassilyevna,"  said  Volodin, 
pressing  his  hands  to  his  heart,  "  I  won't  spoil  Mishenka. 
I  always  think  :  '  Why  should  a  boy  be  spoiled  ?  '  He's 
well  fed,  well  dressed,  well  shod,  as  for  spoiling — no  !  I 
too  can  put  him  into  the  corner  and  not  spoil  him  at  all. 
I  can  do  even  more.  As  you're  a  girl,  that  is,  a  young 
lady,  it's  a  little  inconvenient  to  you,  but  I  could  easily 
birch  him." 

"  He's  not  only  going  to  put  me  into  a  corner,"  said 
Misha  whimpering,  having  again  covered  his  face  with 
his  handkerchief,  "  but  he'll  even  birch  me  !  No,  that 
doesn't  suit  me.  No,  Nadya,  don't  you  dare  to  marry 
him." 

"  Well,  do  you  hear  ?  I  decidedly  can't,"  said 
Nadezhda. 

"  It  seems  very  strange  to  me,  Nadezhda  Vassilyevna, 
that  you're  acting  in  this  way,"  said  Volodin.  "  I  come 
to  you  with  all  my  affections  and  one  might  even  say 
with  fiery  feelings,  and  you  give  your  brother  as  an  ex- 
cuse.   If  you  now  give  your  brother  as  an  excuse,  another 

169 


might  give  her  sister,  a  third  her  nephew,  or  perhaps 
some  other  relative,  and  so  no  one  would  marry — so  that 
the  whole  human  race  would  come  to  an  end." 

"  Don't  worry  about  that,  Pavel  Vassilyevitch,"  said 
Nadezhda,  "  the  world  is  not  threatened  yet  by  such  a 
possibility.  I  don't  want  to  marry  without  Misha's  con- 
sent, and  he,  as  you  have  heard,  is  not  willing.  Besides, 
as  it's  clear  that  you  have  promised  to  beat  him  straight 
away,  you  might  also  beat  me." 

"  Please,  Nadezhda  Vassilyevna,  surely  you  don't 
think  that  I  would  permit  myself  such  a  disgraceful 
action,"  exclaimed  Volodin  desperately. 

Nadezhda  smiled. 

"  And  I  myself  have  no  desire  to  marry,"  she  said. 

"  Perhaps  you  think  of  entering  a  nunnery  ?  "  asked 
Volodin  in  an  offended  voice. 

"  More  likely  you'll  join  the  Tolstoyan  sect,"  corrected 
Peredonov,  "  and  manure  the  fields." 

"  Why  should  I  go  anywhere  ?  "  asked  Nadezhda 
coldly,  as  she  rose  from  her  seat.  "  I'm  perfectly  well  off 
here." 

Volodin  rose  also,  protruded  his  lips  in  a  hurt  way  and 
said  : 

"  Since  Mishcnka  feels  this  way  towards  me  and  you 
are  on  his  side,  then  I  suppose  I'd  better  stop  the  lessons, 
for  how  can  I  go  to  the  lessons  if  Mishcnka  behaves 
towards  me  in  this  way  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  Nadezhda.  "  That's  quite 
another  affair." 

Peredonov  thought  he  ought  to  make  yet  another 
effort  to  prevail  upon  the  young  woman  :  perhaps  she 
would  consent. 

He  said  to  her  gloomily  : 

"  You'd  better  think  it  over  well,  Nadezhda  Vassil- 
yevna— why  should  you  do  it  post-haste  ?  He's  a  good 
man.    He's  my  friend." 

"  No,"    said    Nadezhda.      "  What   is   there   to   think 

170 


about  ?  I  thank  Pavel  Vassilyevitch  very  much  for  the 
honour,  but  I  really  can't." 

Peredonov  looked  angrily  at  Volodin  and  rose.  He 
thought  that  Volodin  was  a  fool,  he  couldn't  make  the 
young  woman  fall  in  love  with  him. 

Volodin  stood  beside  his  chair  with  lowered  head.  He 
asked  reproachfully  : 

"  So  that  means  it's  all  over,  Nadezhda  Vassilyevna  ? 
Ah  !  If  so,"  said  he  waving  his  hand,  "  then  may  God 
be  good  to  you,  Nadezhda  Vassilyevna.  It  means  that 
is  my  miserable  fate.  Ah  !  A  youth  loved  a  maiden  and 
she  did  not  love  him.  God  sees  all !  Ah,  well,  I'll  grieve 
and  that's  all." 

"  You're  rejecting  a  good  man  and  you  don't  know 
what  sort  you  may  get,"  persisted  Peredonov. 

"  Ah  !  "  exclaimed  Volodin  once  more  and  turned  to 
the  door. 

But  suddenly  he  decided  to  be  magnanimous  and  re- 
turned to  shake  hands  with  the  young  woman  and  even 
with  the  juvenile  offender  Misha. 

In  the  street  Peredonov  grumbled  angrily.  All  the 
way  Volodin  complained  bleatingly  in  an  offended  voice. 

"  Why  did  you  give  up  your  lessons  ?  "  growled  Pere- 
donov.   "  You  must  be  a  rich  man  !  " 

"  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  I  only  said  that  if  this  is  so  I 
ought  to  give  them  up,  and  she  said  to  me  that  I  needn't 
give  them  up,  and  as  I  replied  nothing  then  it  follows 
that  she  begged  me  to  continue.  And  now  it  all  depends 
upon  me— if  I  like,  I'll  refuse  ;  if  I  like,  I'll  continue 
them." 

"  Why  should  you  refuse  ?  "  said  Peredonov.  "  Keep 
on  going  as  if  nothing  had  happened." 

"  Let  him  at  least  get  something  out  of  this — he'll  have 
less  cause  for  envy,"  thought  Peredonov. 

Peredonov  felt  terribly  depressed.  Volodin  was  not 
yet  settled.    "  If  I  don't  keep  a  look-out  on  him  he  may 

171 


begin  plotting  with  Varvara.  Besides,  it's  possible  that 
Adamenko  will  have  a  grudge  against  me  for  trying  to 
marry  her  to  Volodin.  She  has  relatives  in  Peterburg  ; 
she  might  write  to  them  and  hurt  my  chances." 

The  weather  was  unpleasant.  The  sky  was  cloudy  ; 
the  crows  flew  about  cawing.  They  cawed  above  Pere- 
donov's  head,  as  if  they  taunted  him  and  foreboded  new 
and  worse  disappointments.  Peredonov  wrapped  his 
scarf  round  his  neck  and  thought  that  in  such  weather 
it  was  easy  to  catch  cold. 

"  What  sort  of  flowers  are  those,  Pavloushka  ?  '  he 
asked  as  he  pointed  out  to  Volodin  some  small  yellow 
flowers  by  a  garden  fence. 

"  That's  liutiki,*  Ardasha,"  said  Volodin  sadly. 

Peredonov  recalled  that  many  such  flowers  grew  in 
his  own  garden,  and  what  a  terrible  name  they  had  ! 
Perhaps  they  were  poisonous.  One  day  Varvara  would 
take  a  handful  of  them  and  boil  them  instead  of  tea,  and 
would  poison  him — then  when  the  inspector's  certificate 
arrived,  she  would  poison  him  and  make  Volodin  take 
his  place.  Perhaps  they  had  already  agreed  upon  it.  It 
was  not  for  nothing  that  he  knew  the  name  of  this  flower. 
In  the  meantime  Volodin  was  saying  : 

"  Let  God  be  her  judge  !  Why  did  she  humiliate  me  ? 
She's  waiting  for  an  aristocrat  and  it  doesn't  occur  to 
her  that  there  are  all  sorts  of  aristocrats — she  might  be 
miserable  with  one  of  them  ;  but  a  simple,  good  man 
might  make  her  happy.  And  now  I'll  go  to  church  and 
put  a  candle  for  her  health  and  pray  :  May  God  give  her 
a  drunken  husband,  who  will  beat  her,  who  will  squander 
her  money  and  leave  her  penniless  in  the  world.  Then 
she  will  remember  me,  but  it  will  be  too  late.  She  will 
dry  her  tears  with  her  hand  and  say,  '  What  a  fool  I  was 
to  reject  Pavel  Vassilyevitch.  There's  no  one  to  direct 
me  now.    He  was  a  good  man  !  '  " 

*  Liutiki,  a  sort  of  buttercup.  The  word  "liuti"  means  "cruel, 
ferocious,  violent,"  which  gives  the  point  of  Peredonov's  reflection. 

172 


Touched  by  his  own  words,  a  few  tears  came  into 
Volodin's  eyes  and  he  wiped  them  from  his  sheepish, 
bulging  eyes  with  his  hands. 

'  You'd  better  break  some  of  her  windows  one  night," 
advised  Peredonov. 

"  Well,  God  be  with  her,"  said  Volodin  sadly.  "  I 
might  be  caught.  No,  and  what  a  miserable  little  boy 
that  is  !  O  Lord,  what  have  I  done  to  him  that  he 
should  think  of  harming  me  ?  Haven't  I  tried  hard  for 
him,  and  look  what  mischief  he's  done  me  !  What  do 
you  think  of  such  an  infant ;  what  will  become  of  him  ? 
Tell  me." 

"  Yes,"  said  Peredonov  savagely,  "  you  couldn't  even 
manage  the  little  boy.    Oh,  you  lover  !  " 

"  Well,  what  of  that  ?  "  said  Volodin.  "  Of  course  I'm 
a  lover.  I'll  find  another.  She  needn't  think  that  I'll 
grieve  for  her." 

:'  Oh,  you  lover,"  Peredonov  continued  to  taunt  him. 
L'  And  he  put  a  new  tie  on  !  How  can  a  chap  like  you 
expect  to  be  a  gentleman  ?    Lover  !  " 

"  Well,  I'm  the  lover  and  you're  the  match-maker, 
Ardasha,"  argued  Volodin.  "  You  yourself  aroused 
hopes  in  me  and  couldn't  fulfil  them.  Oh,  you  match- 
maker !  " 

And  they  began  zealously  to  taunt  one  another  and  to 
argue  as  if  they  were  discussing  some  important  business 
matter. 

Nadezhda  escorted  her  visitors  to  the  door  and  re- 
turned to  the  drawing-room.  Misha  was  lying  on  the  sofa 
laughing.  His  sister  pulled  him  off  the  sofa  by  his  shoul- 
ders and  said  : 

"  But  you  have  forgotten  that  you  oughtn't  to  listen 
behind  doors." 

She  lifted  her  hands  and  made  as  if  to  cross  her  little 
ringers  at  an  angle,  a  sign  for  him  to  go  into  the  corner, 
but  suddenly  burst  out  laughing,  and  the  little  fingers 

173 


did  not  come  together.  Misha  threw  himself  towards 
her.    They  embraced  and  laughed  for  a  long  time. 

"  All  the  same,"  she  said,  "  you  ought  to  go  in  the 
corner  for  listening." 

"  You  ought  to  let  me  off,"  said  Misha.  "  I  saved  you 
from  that  bridegroom,  so  you  ought  to  be  grateful." 

"  Who  saved  whom  ?  You  heard  how  they  were  talk- 
ing of  giving  you  a  birching.    Now  go  into  the  corner." 

"  Well,  I'd  better  kneel  here,"  said  Misha. 

He  lowered  himself  on  to  his  knees  at  his  sister's  feet 
and  laid  his  head  in  her  lap.  She  caressed  him  and 
tickled  him.  Misha  laughed,  scrabbling  with  his  knees 
on  the  floor.  Suddenly  his  sister  pushed  him  from  her 
and  sat  down  on  the  sofa.  Misha  remained  alone.  He 
stayed  awhile  on  his  knees,  and  looked  questioningly  at 
his  sister.  She  seated  herself  more  comfortably  and 
picked  up  a  book  as  if  to  read,  but  watched  her  brother 
over  it. 

"  Well,  I'm  tired  now,"  he  said  plaintively. 

"  I'm  not  keeping  you  there,  you  put  yourself  there," 
answered  Nadezhda,  smiling  over  her  book. 

"  Well,  I've  been  punished,  let  me  go,  please,"  en- 
treated Misha. 

"  Did  I  put  you  on  your  knees  ?  "  said  Nadezhda  in  a 
voice  of  assumed  indifference.     "  Why  do  you  bother 


me 

(C 


9  >> 


I'll  not  get  up  until  you've  forgiven  me." 
Nadezhda  burst  out  laughing,  put  the  book  aside,  and 
taking  hold  of  Misha's  shoulders,  pulled  him  to  her.    He 
gave  a  squeal  and  threw  himself  into  her  arms  exclaim- 
ing : 

"  Pavloushka's  bride  !  " 


174 


CHAPTER  XVI 

The  dark-eyed  boy  occupied  all  Liudmilla's  thoughts. 
She  often  talked  about  him  with  her  own  family  and  with 
acquaintances,  sometimes  unseasonably.  Almost  every 
night  she  saw  him  in  a  dream,  sometimes  quiet  and 
ordinary  but  often  in  a  wild  and  fantastic  guise.  Her 
accounts  of  these  dreams  became  so  habitual  with  her 
that  her  sisters  began  to  ask  her  every  morning  how  she 
had  dreamed  of  Sasha.  She  spent  all  her  leisure  thinking 
about  him. 

On  Sunday  Liudmilla  prevailed  on  her  sisters  to  ask 
Kokovkina  in  after  Mass  and  to  keep  her  a  while.  She 
wanted  to  find  Sasha  alone.  She  herself  did  not  go  to 
church.  She  instructed  her  sisters  :  "  Tell  her  that  I 
overslept  myself." 

Her  sisters  laughed  at  her  plot  but  agreed  to  help  her. 
They  lived  very  amicably  together.  Besides  this  suited 
them  admirably — Liudmilla  would  occupy  herself  with 
a  boy  and  that  would  leave  them  the  more  eligible  young 
men.  And  they  did  as  they  promised— they  invited 
Kokovkina  to  come  in  after  Mass. 

In  the  meantime  Liudmilla  got  ready  to  go.  She 
dressed  herself  very  gaily  and  handsomely  and  scented 
herself  with  soft  syringa  perfume,  and  she  put  a  new 
bottle  of  scent  and  a  small  sprinkler  into  her  white  bead- 
trimmed  hand-bag,  and  stood  just  behind  the  blind  in 
the  drawing-room  so  that  she  could  see  whether  Kokov- 
kina was  coming.  She  had  thought  of  taking  the  scent 
before  this — to  scent  the  schoolboy  so  that  he  would  not 
smell  of  his  detestable  Latin,  ink  and  boyishness.  Liud- 
milla loved  perfumes,  ordered  them  from  Peterburg  and 
consumed  a  great  deal  of  them.     She  loved  aromatic 

175 


flowers.  Her  room  was  always  full  of  some  sweet  scent — 
with  flowers,  with  perfumes,  with  pines,  and  in  the 
spring  with  birch-twigs. 

But  here  were  the  sisters,  and  Kokovkina  with  them. 
Liudmilla  ran  through  the  kitchen,  across  the  vegetable 
garden,  by  the  little  gate,  along  a  lane  in  order  not  to 
meet  Kokovkina.  She  smiled  happily,  walked  quickly 
towards  Kokovkina's  house  and  playfully  swung  her 
hand-bag  and  white  parasol.  The  warm  autumn  day 
gladdened  her  and  it  seemed  as  if  she  were  bringing  with 
her  and  spreading  around  her  her  own  spirit  of  gaiety. 

At  Kokovkina's  the  maid  told  her  that  her  mistress 
was  not  at  home.  Liudmilla  laughed  noisily  and  joked 
with  the  red-cheeked  girl  who  opened  the  door. 

"  But  perhaps  you're  fooling  me,"  she  said  ;  "  perhaps 
your  mistress  is  hiding  from  me." 

"  He-he  !  Why  should  she  hide  ?  "  replied  the  maid 
with  a  laugh.  "  But  you  can  come  in  if  you  don't 
believe  me." 

Liudmilla  looked  into  the  drawing-room  and  shouted 
playfully  : 

"  Is  there  a  live  person  in  the  place  ?    Ah,  a  student  !  ' 

Sasha  looked  out  from  his  room  and  was  delighted  to 
sec  Liudmilla,  and  seeing  his  joyous  eyes  Liudmilla 
became  even  gayer.    She  asked  : 

"  And  where's  Olga  Vassilyevna  ?  " 

"  She's  not  at  home,"  replied  Sasha,  "  that  is,  she 
hasn't  come  back  yet.  She  must  have  gone  somewhere 
after  church.    Here  I'm  back  and  she's  not  here  yet." 

Liudmilla  pretended  to  be  astonished.  She  swung  her 
parasol  and  said  as  if  in  annoyance  : 

"  How  can  it  be  ?  Everyone  else  is  back  from  church. 
She's  always  at  home,  and  then  I  come  and  she's  out.  Is 
it  because  you  make  such  a  noise,  young  man,  that  the 
old  woman  can't  sit  at  home  ?  " 

Sasha  smiled  quietly.  He  was  delighted  to  hear  Liud- 
milla's    voice,    Liudm ilia's   cheerful   laughter.      He    was 

176 


wondering  at  the  moment  how  he  could  best  offer  to 
escort  her — so  that  he  would  be  with  her  even  a  few 
more  minutes,  to  look  at  her  and  to  listen  to  her. 

But  Liudmilla  did  not  think  of  going.  She  looked  at 
Sasha  with  a  shy  smile  and  said  : 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  ask  me  to  sit  down,  you  polite 
young  man  ?  Don't  you  see  that  I'm  tired  !  Let  me 
rest  for  a  moment." 

And  she  entered  the  drawing-room  laughing  and 
caressing  Sasha  with  her  quick,  tender  eyes.  Sasha  grew 
red  with  confusion  but  was  glad  that  she  would  remain 
longer  with  him. 

"  If  you  like  I'll  scent  you,"  said  Liudmilla  gaily. 
"  Would  you  like  it  ?  " 

"  What  a  person  you  are  !  "  said  Sasha.  "  You  sud- 
denly want  to  suffocate*  me  !    Why  are  you  so  cruel  ?  " 

Liudmilla  burst  out  laughing  and  threw  herself  back 
in  her  chair. 

"  You  stupid  !  You  don't  understand.  I  don't  mean 
to  suffocate  with  the  hands,  but  with  scents." 

Sasha  said  : 

"  Ah  !    Scents  !    I  don't  mind  that." 

Liudmilla  took  the  sprinkler  from  her  hand-bag  and 
turned  before  Sasha's  eyes  the  pretty  little  glass  vessel, 
dark  red  with  gold  ornaments,  with  its  rubber  ball  and 
bronze  mouthpiece,  and  said  : 

"  Do  you  see,  I  bought  a  new  sprinkler  and  I  forgot  to 
take  it  out  of  my  bag  at  home." 

Then  she  took  out  a  large  scent-bottle  with  a  vari- 
coloured label — Guerlain's  Roa-Rosa. 

Sasha  said  : 

"  What  a  deep  hand-bag  you've  got  !  " 

Liudmilla  answered  : 

"  Well,  you  needn't  expect  anything  else.  I  haven't 
brought  you  any  ginger-bread." 

"  Ginger-bread  !  "  repeated  Sasha  in  amusement. 
*  "  Doosheet "  means  "  to  scent "  and  also  "  to  suffocate." 

N— LITTLE   DEMON  177 


He  looked  on  with  curiosity  as  Liudmilla  uncorked  the 
scent-bottle.    He  asked  : 

"  And  how  will  you  pour  it  out  from  that  without  a 
funnel  ?  " 

'  I  expect  you  to  get  me  a  funnel,"  said  Liudmilla. 

"  But  I  haven't  one,"  said  Sasha. 

"  Do  as  you  like,  but  you  must  get  me  a  funnel," 
persisted  Liudmilla,  laughing. 

'  I  would  get  one  from  Milanya,  only  it's  used  for 
paraffin,"  said  Sasha. 

Liudmilla  again  burst  into  gay  laughter. 

"  Oh,  you  dull  young  man,  get  me  a  piece  of  paper,  if 
you  can  spare  it — and  there's  your  funnel." 

"  That's  true,"  exclaimed  Sasha  joyously,  "  it's  easy 
to  make  one  from  paper.    I'll  get  it  at  once." 

Sasha  ran  into  his  room. 

"  Shall  I  take  it  from  an  exercise-book  ?  "  he  shouted 
from  his  room. 

Liudmilla  replied  : 

"  You  can  tear  it  out  from  a  book — a  Latin  grammar 
if  you  like.    I  don't  mind." 

"  No,  I'd  better  take  it  from  the  exercise-book,"  said 
Sasha  laughingly. 

He  found  a  clean  exercise-book,  tore  out  the  middle 
page  and  was  about  to  run  back  to  the  drawing-room 
when  he  saw  Liudmilla  at  the  door. 

"  May  I  come  in,  master  of  the  house  ?  "  she  asked 
playfully. 

"  Please,  I  shall  be  very  glad  !  "  exclaimed  Sasha. 

Liudmilla  seated  herself  at  his  table  and  twisted  a 
funnel  from  a  piece  of  paper.  With  a  preoccupied  ex- 
pression, she  began  to  pour  the  scent  from  the  bottle  into 
the  sprinkler.  The  paper  funnel,  at  the  bottom  and  the 
side,  where  the  trickle  of  scent  ran,  became  wet  and 
dark.  The  aromatic  liquid  accumulated  in  the  funnel 
and  dripped  into  the  sprinkler  below.  There  was  a  warm, 
sweet  "aroma  of  rose  mixed  with  a  poignant  odour  of 

178 


spirit.  Liudmilla  poured  half  of  the  scent  from  the  bottle 
into  the  sprinkler  and  said  : 

"  That'll  be  enough." 

And  she  began  to  screw  the  top  on  the  scent-sprinkler. 
Then  she  rolled  up  the  piece  of  wet  paper  and  rubbed  it 
between  the  palms  of  her  hands. 

"  Smell  !  "  she  said  to  Sasha  and  put  her  palm  to  his 
face. 

Sasha  bent  over,  closed  his  eyes,  and  inhaled.  Liud- 
milla laughed,  lightly  touched  his  lips  with  her  palm 
and  held  her  hand  to  his  mouth.  Sasha  blushed  and 
kissed  her  warm,  scented  hand  with  a  gentle  contact  of 
his  trembling  lips.  Liudmilla  sighed  ;  a  tender  expres- 
sion crossed  her  attractive  face,  and  then  changed  to  her 
habitual  expression  of  careless  gaiety.    She  said  : 

"  Now,  just  keep  still  while  I  sprinkle  you." 

And  she  pressed  the  rubber  bulb.  The  aromatic 
spray-dust  spurted  out,  spreading  into  minute  drops 
upon  Sasha's  blouse.  Sasha  laughed  as  he  turned 
obediently  when  Liudmilla  pushed  him. 

"  It  smells  nice,  eh  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Very  nice,"  replied  Sasha.  "  What  sort  of  scent 
is  it  ?  " 

"  What  a  baby  you  are  !  "  said  Liudmilla  in  a  teasing 
voice.    "  Look  on  the  bottle  and  you'll  see." 

Sasha  looked  at  the  label  and  said  : 

"  It  smells  of  oil  of  roses." 

"  Oil  !  '  she  said  reproachfully,  and  struck  Sasha 
lightly  on  the  shoulder. 

Sasha  laughed,  gave  a  slight  scream  and  thrust  out  his 
tongue,  curving  it  in  the  shape  of  a  tube.  Liudmilla 
rose,  and  began  to  turn  over  Sasha's  school  books. 

"  May  I  look  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Sasha. 

"  Where  are  your  ones  and  your  noughts  ?  Show  me." 
'  I  haven't  yet  had  any  such  thing,"  said  Sasha  with 
an  injured  look. 

179 


"  No,  you're  fibbing,"  asserted  Liudmilla.  "  I'm  sure 
you  get  noughts.    You  must  have  hidden  them." 

Sasha  smiled. 

"  I'm  sure  you're  bored  with  Latin  and  Greek,"  said 
Liudmilla. 

"  No,"  answered  Sasha,  but  it  was  evident  that  the 
mere  conversation  about  school-books  would  bring  upon 
him  their  habitual  tediousness.  "  It  is  a  little  boring  to 
learn  mechanically,"  he  admitted.  "  But  I  have  a  good 
memory.    I  only  like  solving  problems — that  I  like." 

"  Come  to  me  to-morrow  after  lunch,"  said  Liudmilla. 

"  Thank  you,  I  will,"  said  Sasha  blushing. 

He  felt  very  happy  that  Liudmilla  had  invited  him. 
Liudmilla  asked  : 

"  Do  you  know  where  I  live  ?     Will  you  come  there  ?  ' 

"  Yes,  I  know.    I'll  come  there,"  said  Sasha  happily. 

"  Now,  be  sure  to  come,"  repeated  Liudmilla  sternly. 
"  I'll  wait  for  you,  do  you  hear  !  " 

"  But  suppose  I  should  have  a  lot  of  lessons  ?  "  asked 
Sasha,  more  from  scruple  than  from  any  idea  that  he 
would  not  come  because  of  his  lessons. 

"  That's  all  nonsense.  You  must  come,"  insisted 
Liudmilla.    "  They  won't  give  you  a  nought." 

"  But  why  ?  "  asked  Sasha  laughingly. 

"  Because  you've  got  to  come.  Come,  for  I've  some- 
thing to  tell  you  and  something  to  show  you,"  said 
Liudmilla  dancing  about  and  humming  a  song,  and  lift- 
ing her  skirt  as  she  did  so,  and  playfully  sticking  out  her 
pink  little  fingers. 

"  Come  to  me,  sweet  one,  sober  one,  golden  one,"  she 


sang. 


Sasha  began  to  laugh. 

"  You'd  better  tell  me  to-day,"  he  entreated. 

"  I  mustn't  to-day.  And  how  can  I  tell  you  to-day  ? 
You  won't  come  to-morrow  if  I  do.  You'll  say  there's 
nothing  to  come  for." 

"  Very  well,  I'll  come  without  fail,  if  they'll  let  me." 

180 


"  Of  course  they'll  let  you.  No  one's  holding  you  on 
a  chain." 

When  she  said  good-bye,  Liudmilla  kissed  Sasha's 
forehead,  and  put  her  hand  to  his  lips — he  had  to  kiss  it. 
And  Sasha  was  happy  to  kiss  again  her  white,  gentle 
hand — and  a  little  shy.  And  why  not  ?  But  Liudmilla, 
as  she  left,  smiled  archly  and  tenderly.  And  she  looked 
back  several  times. 

"  How  charming  she  is,"  thought  Sasha.  He  was  left 
alone. 

"  How  soon  she  left,"  he  thought.  "  She  suddenly 
went  and  it's  hard  to  realise  that  she's  gone.  She  might 
have  stayed  a  little  longer."  And  he  felt  ashamed  that 
he  had  not  offered  to  escort  her.  "  It  wouldn't  have 
been  a  bad  idea  to  walk  along  with  her,"  he  thought. 
"  Shall  I  run  after  her  ?  Has  she  gone  far,  I  wonder. 
Perhaps  if  I  run  fast  I  might  overtake  her." 

"  But  perhaps  she  would  laugh,"  he  continued  to 
himself.    "  And  besides  she  might  not  like  it." 

And  so  he  could  not  make  up  his  mind  to  go  after  her. 
He  suddenly  felt  depressed  and  uneasy.  The  gentle 
tremor  from  the  contact  of  her  hand  still  remained  on 
his  lips,  and  on  his  forehead  her  kiss  still  burned. 

"  How  gently  she  kisses,"  Sasha  mused.  '  Like  a 
sweet  sister." 

Sasha's  cheeks  burned.  He  felt  deliciously  ashamed. 
Vague  reveries  stirred  within  him. 

"  If  she  were  only  my  sister,"  thought  Sasha  tenderly, 
"  then  I  might  go  to  her  and  kiss  her  and  say  an  affec- 
tionate word.  Then  I  might  call  her  *  Liudmillotchka 
dearest,'  or  I  might  call  her  by  some  special  pet-name : 
'  Booba  '  or  '  Strekoza.'  And  she  would  respond.  Now 
that  would  be  a  joy. 

"  But  instead,"  thought  Sasha  sadly,  "  she's  a  stranger. 
Lovely,  but  a  stranger.  She  came  and  she  went.  And 
it's  likely  she's  not  even  thinking  about  me.  And  she's 
left  behind  her  a  sweet  scent  of  rose  and  lilac,  and  the 

181 


feeling  of  two  gentle  kisses — and  a  vague  movement  in 
the  soul  giving  birth  to  a  sweet  vision  as  the  waves  gave 
birth  to  Aphrodite." 

Soon  Kokovkina  returned. 

"  Phew  !   how  strong  it  smells  here,"  she  said. 

Sasha  blushed. 

"  Liudmillotchka  was  here,"  he  said.  "  And  she 
didn't  find  you  at  home,  so  she  sat  a  while  and  sprinkled 
me  with  scent  and  left." 

"  What  tenderness  !  "  said  the  old  woman  in  astonish- 
ment, "  and  Liudmillotchka  too  !  " 

Sasha  laughed  confusedly  and  ran  into  his  own  room, 
As  for  Kokovkina,  she  thought  that  the  Routilov  sisters 
were  very  gay  and  affectionate  girls — and  that  they  could 
captivate  both  the  young  and  the  old  with  their  affec 
tionate  ways. 

On  the  next  day,  from  the  morning  onward,  Sasha 
felt  happy  because  he  had  been  invited  to  the  Routilovs. 
At  home  he  waited  impatiently  for  lunch.  After  lunch, 
blushing  with  embarrassment,  he  asked  permission  of 
Kokovkina  to  go  to  the  Routilovs  till  seven  o'clock. 
Kokovkina  was  astonished  but  let  him  go.  Sasha  ran  off 
gaily.  He  had  carefully  combed  his  hair  and  put  pomade 
on  it.  He  felt  happy  and  slightly  nervous,  as  one  is 
before  something  important  and  pleasant.  It  pleased 
him  to  think  that  he  would  come  and  kiss  Liudmilla's 
hand  and  that  she  would  kiss  his  forehead — and  then 
when  he  left  the  same  kisses  would  be  exchanged.  He 
thought  with  delight  of  Liudmilla's  white  gentle  hand. 

All  the  three  sisters  met  Sasha  in  the  hall.  They  liked 
to  sit  by  the  window  and  look  out  on  the  street  and  that 
was  why  they  saw  him  from  a  distance.  Gay,  well- 
dressed,  chattering,  they  surrounded  him  with  a  noisy, 
impetuous  gaiety — and  he  at  once  felt  at  ease  with  them 
and  quite  happy. 

182 


"  Here  he  is,  the  mysterious  young  person !  '  ex- 
claimed Liudmilla. 

Sasha  kissed  her  hand  and  he  did  it  gracefully  and 
with  great  pleasure  to  himself.  At  the  same  time  he 
kissed  Darya's  hand  and  Valeria's — it  was  impossible  to 
pass  them  by — and  found  this  also  very  agreeable.  All 
the  more,  since  all  three  of  them  kissed  his  cheek.  Darya 
kissed  him  loudly  and  indifferently,  as  though  he  were 
a  board  ;  Valeria  kissed  him  gently,  lowering  her  eyes 
with  a  sidelong  glance,  smiled  slightly  and  barely  brushed 
him  with  her  light  lips — touching  his  cheek  with  the 
faint  colour  of  an  apple — while  Liudmilla  gave  him  a  gay, 
strong  kiss. 

"  He's  my  visitor,"  she  announced,  as  she  took  Sasha 
by  the  shoulders  and  led  him  to  her  room. 
Darya  was  rather  annoyed  at  this. 
"  Ah,  so  he's  yours.    Well,  you  can  go  on  kissing  him  !  " 
she  exclaimed.     "  You've  found  a  treasure.     As  if  any- 
one would  want  to  take  him  away  from  you." 

Valeria  said  nothing  but  only  smiled — it  was  not  in- 
teresting, after  all,  to  talk  with  a  mere  boy  !  What  could 
he  understand  ? 

Liudmilla's  room  was  spacious,  cheerful  and  very 
light,  because  of  two  large  windows  giving  on  to  the 
garden  ;  these  were  curtained  with  light,  yellow  tulle. 
There  was  a  perfume  in  the  room.  Everything  was  neat 
and  bright.  The  chairs  and  the  arm-chairs  were  covered 
with  a  golden  yellow  chintz,  marked  with  a  white  almost 
indistinguishable  pattern.  Various  bottles  of  scents  and 
scented  waters,  and  small  jars,  boxes  and  fans  and  several 
Russian  and  French  books  lay  about  the  room. 

"  I  saw  you  in  a  dream  last  night,"  Liudmilla  began 
with  a  laugh.  "  You  were  swimming  in  the  river  and  I 
was  sitting  on  the  bridge  and  I  caught  you  with  a  fishing- 
rod." 

"  And  I  suppose  you  put  me  in  a  little  jar  ?  "  asked 
Sasha  jokingly. 

183 


"  Why  in  a  little  jar  ?  " 

"  Where,  then  ?  " 

"Where?  Why,  I  simply  pulled  you  by  the  ears  and 
threw  you  back  in  the  water."  And  Liudmilla  laughed 
for  a  long  time. 

"  You're  a  strange  girl,"  said  Sasha.  "  But  what  is  it 
you  were  going  to  tell  me  to-day  ?  " 

But  Liudmilla  went  on  laughing  and  did  not  reply. 

"  I  see  you've  fooled  me,"  said  he.  "  And  you  also 
promised  to  show  me  something,"  he  said  reproachfully. 

"  I'll  show  you  !    Would  you  like  something  to  eat  ?  ' 
asked  Liudmilla. 

"  I've  had  lunch,"  said  Sasha.     "  But  you  are  a  de- 


ceiver." 


"As  if  I  needed  to  deceive  you  !  But  what  a  strong 
smell  of  pomade  ?  "  Liudmilla  suddenly  exclaimed. 

Sasha  blushed. 

"  I  can't  stand  pomade,"  said  Liudmilla  with  annoy- 
ance.   "  You're  smeared  up  like  a  young  lady  !  " 

She  ran  her  hand  down  his  hair  and  struck  his  cheek 
with  her  grease-smeared  palm. 

"  Please  don't  you  dare  to  use  pomade,"  she  said. 

Sasha  felt  flustered. 

"  Very  well,  I  won't  do  it,"  he  said.  "  How  severe 
you  are  !    But  you  scent  yourself  with  perfumes  !  ' 

"  Scents  are  one  thing,  but  pomade  is  another,  you 
stupid.  A  fine  comparison  !  "  exclaimed  Liudmilla.  "  I 
never  pomade  myself.  Why  should  one  glue  one's  hair 
down  !  It's  different  with  scents.  Now,  let  me  scent 
you.  Would  you  like  it  ?  Let  us  say  lilac.  Would  you 
like  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  would  like  it,"  said  Sasha. 

It  was  pleasant  to  think  that  he  would  take  that  scent 
home  again  and  astonish  Kokovkina. 

"  Who  would  like  it  ?  "  asked  Liudmilla,  taking  the 
bottle  and  looking  archly  at  Sasha. 

"  I'd  like  it,"  repeated  Sasha. 

184 


'  You  like  it — so  you  bark  do  you  ?*  she  teased  him, 

Sasha  and  Liudmilla  both  laughed. 

'  So  you're  not  afraid  that  I'll  suffocate  you  ?  "  asked 
Liudmilla.  "  Do  you  remember  how  you  were  afraid 
yesterday  ?  " 

'  I  wasn't  afraid  at  all,"  replied  Sasha  hotly. 
Liudmilla,  smiling  and  still  teasing  the  boy,  began  to 
sprinkle  him  with  lilac  scent.     Sasha  thanked  her  and 
once  more  kissed  her  hand. 

;'  And  please  you  must  get  your  hair  cut,"  said  Liud- 
milla sternly.  "  What's  the  use  of  wearing  long  locks  ? 
You  only  frighten  the  horses." 

"  All  right,  I'll  have  my  hair  cut,"  agreed  Sasha. 
"  You're  terribly  severe  !  My  hair  is  very  short.  Not 
more  than  half  an  inch.  The  inspector  never  grumbled 
at  me  for  it." 

'  I  like  young  people  with  short  hair,"  said  Liudmilla 
impressively,  and  threatened  him  with  her  finger.  "  But 
I'm  not  an  inspector,  I've  got  to  be  obeyed  !  " 

From  that  time  on  Liudmilla  made  it  a  habit  to  go 
frequently  to  Kokovkina — to  see  Sasha.  She  tried, 
especially  at  the  beginning,  to  go  when  Kokovkina  was 
not  at  home.  Sometimes  she  even  tried  little  tricks  to 
lure  the  old  woman  out  of  the  house.  Darya  once  said 
to  her  : 

;'  Ah,  what  a  coward  you  are  !  You're  afraid  of  an 
old  woman.  You'd  better  go  when  she's  at  home  and 
take  him  out  for  a  walk." 

Liudmilla  followed  this  advice  and  began  to  call  at 
odd  times.  If  she  found  Kokovkina  at  home  she  would 
sit  with  her  for  a  while  and  then  take  Sasha  out  for  a 
walk,  in  which  case  she  always  kept  him  for  a  short  time 
only. 

*  There  is  a  pun  here.  The  phrase  "ti  zhelayesh"  means,  "You 
like,  you  want  it."  When  split  into  three  words,  "ti  zhe  layesh,"  it 
means,  "  You  do  bark." 

185 


Liudmilla  and  Sasha  became  friends  with  a  gentle  yet 
not  tranquil  friendship.  Without  noticing  it  herself 
Liudmilla  had  awakened  in  Sasha  premature  though  as 
yet  vague  inclinations  and  desires.  Sasha  often  kissed 
Liudmilla's  hands  and  her  thin,  supple  wrists,  covered 
with  a  soft  clastic  skin  ;  through  her  thin  yellow  sleeve 
showed  her  frail,  sinuous,  blue  veins.  And  above  were 
her  long  slender  arms  which  could  be  kissed  to  the  very 
elbows  when  the  sleeves  were  pushed  back. 

Sasha  sometimes  concealed  from  Kokovkina  the  fact 
that  Liudmilla  had  been  to  the  house.  He  didn't  lie 
about  it,  but  he  kept  silent.  It  was  impossible  for  him 
to  lie — as  the  maid-servant  could  easily  have  contradicted 
him.  And  to  remain  silent  about  Liudmilla's  visits  was 
also  difficult  for  Sasha  :  Liudmilla's  laughter  echoed  in 
his  ears.  He  wanted  to  talk  about  her.  But  to  talk 
about  her  was  somehow  awkward. 

Sasha  quickly  made  friends  with  the  other  sisters  also. 
He  would  kiss  their  hands  and  soon  even  began  to  call 
the  girls  "  Dashenka,"  "  Liudmillotchka "  and  "  Valcr- 
otchka." 


186 


CHAPTER  XVII 

Liudmilla  met  Sasha  one  day  in  the  street  and  said  to 
him  : 

"  To-morrow  the  Head-Master's  wife  is  having  a  birth- 
day party  for  her  eldest  daughter — is  the  old  lady  going  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Sasha. 

But  already  the  hope  stirred  within  him,  not  so  much 
a  hope  as  a  desire,  that  Kokovkina  would  go  and  Liud- 
milla come  and  stay  with  him  a  while.  In  the  evening  he 
reminded  Kokovkina  of  the  morrow's  party. 

"  I'd  almost  forgotten  it,"  said  Kokovkina,  "  of  course, 
I  must  go.    She's  such  a  charming  girl." 

And,  next  day,  as  soon  as  Sasha  had  returned  from 
school,  Kokovkina  went  to  the  Khripatch's.  Sasha  was 
delighted  with  the  idea  that  he  had  helped  to  get  Kokov- 
kina out  of  the  house  that  day.  He  felt  certain  that 
Liudmilla  would  find  time  to  come. 

So  it  happened — Liudmilla  came.  She  kissed  Sasha's 
cheek  and  gave  him  her  hand  to  kiss,  and  again  she 
laughed  and  he  blushed.  A  moist,  sweet  and  flower-like 
odour  came  from  Liudmilla's  clothes — rose  and  orris,  the 
fleshly  and  voluptuous  orris  blooming  among  roses. 
Liudmilla  brought  a  long  narrow  box  wrapped  up  in  thin 
paper  through  which  showed  dimly  a  yellow  label.  She 
sat  down,  put  the  box  on  her  knees,  and  looked  archly 
at  Sasha. 

"  Do  you  like  dates  ?  "  she  asked. 
'  Yes,  I  do,"  said  Sasha  with  an  amused  grimace. 
'  Well,  I've  got  some  here  for  you,"  she  said  with  a 
serious  air. 

She  took  the  cover  from  the  box  and  said  : 

"  Take  some." 

187 


She  herself  took  the  dates  one  by  one  from  the  box 
and  put  then  im  Sasha's  mouth,  making  him  kiss  her 
hand  after  each.    Sasha  said  : 

"  But  my  lips  are  sticky." 

"  That  doesn't  matter  much.  Kiss,  it's  good  for  your 
health,"  replied  Liudmilla  gaily.    "  I  don't  object." 

"  Perhaps  I'd  better  give  you  all  the  kisses  at  once," 
said  Sasha  laughingly. 

And  he  stretched  out  his  hand  to  take  a  date  him- 
self. 

"  You'll  cheat  me  !  You'll  cheat  me  !  "  exclaimed 
Liudmilla,  and  quickly  shut  the  lid  down,  pinching 
Sasha's  fingers. 

"  What  an  idea  !  I'm  quite  honest.  I  won't  cheat 
you,"  said  Sasha  reassuringly. 

"  No,  no,  I  don't  believe  you,"  asserted  Liudmilla. 

"  Well,  if  you  like  I'll  give  you  the  kisses  beforehand," 
suggested  Sasha. 

"  That  looks  more  like  business,"  said  Liudmilla. 
"  Here  you  are." 

She  stretched  out  her  hand  to  Sasha.  He  took  her 
long  thin  fingers,  kissed  them  once  and  asked  with  a  sly 
smile,  without  letting  go  of  her  hand  : 

"  And  you'll  not  cheat  me,  Liudmillotchka  ?  ' 

"  Do  you  think  I'm  dishonest !  "  answered  Liudmilla. 
"  You  can  kiss  without  suspicion." 

Sasha  bent  over  her  hand  and  gave  it  quick  kisses  ; 
he  covered  her  hand  with  loud  kisses,  pressing  his  open 
lips  against  her  hand,  and  feeling  happy  that  he  could 
kiss  her  so  often.  Liudmilla  carefully  counted  the  kisses. 
WThen  she  had  counted  ten,  she  said  : 

"  It  must  be  very  awkward  for  you  to  stand  and  bend 


over." 


"  Well,  I'll  make  myself  more  comfortable,"  said  Sasha. 
He  went  down  on  his  knees  and  kissed  her  hand  with 
renewed  zeal. 

Sasha  loved  sweets.     He  was  pleased  that  Liudmilla 

188 


had  brought  him  some  sweet  things.    For  this  he  loved 
her  still  more  tenderly. 

Liudmilla  sprinkled  Sasha  with  lusciously  aromatic 
scents.  Their  aroma  astonished  Sasha.  It  was  at  once 
overpoweringly  sweet,  intoxicating  and  radiantly  hazy — 
like  a  sinful  golden  sunrise  seen  through  an  early  white 
mist.    Sasha  said  : 

"  What  a  strange  perfume  !  " 
'  Try  it  on  your  hand,"  advised  Liudmilla. 

And  she  gave  him  an  ugly,  four-cornered  jar,  rounded 
at  the  edges.  Sasha  looked  at  it  against  the  light.  It 
was  a  bright  yellow  liquid.  It  had  a  large,  highly  coloured 
label  with  a  French  inscription — it  was  cyclamen  from 
Piver's.  Sasha  took  hold  of  the  flat  glass  stopper,  pulled 
it  out  and  smelled  at  the  perfume.  Then  he  did  as 
Liudmilla  liked  to  do — he  put  his  palm  on  the  mouth  of 
the  bottle,  turned  it  over  quickly  and  then  turned  it 
upright  again.  Then  he  rubbed  between  his  palms  the 
few  drops  of  cyclamen  that  remained  and  smelled  his 
hand  attentively.  The  spirit  in  the  scent  evaporated 
and  the  pure  aroma  remained.  Liudmilla  looked  at  him 
with  expectancy. 

Sasha  said  indecisively  : 

"  It  smells  a  little  of  insects." 

''  Don't  tell  lies,  please,"  said  Liudmilla  in  vexation. 

She  put  some  of  the  scent  on  her  hand  and  smelled  it. 
Sasha  repeated  : 

"  Yes,  of  insects." 

Liudmilla  suddenly  flared  up,  so  that  small  tears 
glistened  in  her  eyes.  She  struck  Sasha  across  the  cheek 
and  cried  : 

"  Oh,  you  wicked  boy  !    That's  for  your  insects  !  " 
'  That  was   a   healthy  smack,"   said  Sasha,   and   he 
laughed  and  kissed  Liudmilla's  hand.    "  But  why  are  you 
so  angry,  dearest  Liudmillotchka  ?     What  do  you  think 
it  does  smell  of  ?  " 

189 


He  was  not  at  all  angry  at  the  blow — he  was  com- 
pletely bewitched  by  Liudmilla. 

"  What  does  it  smell  of  ?  "  asked  Liudmilla,  and 
caught  hold  of  Sasha  by  the  ear.  "  I'll  tell  you  what, 
but  first  I'm  going  to  pull  your  ear  for  you." 

"  Oi-oi-oi  !  Liudmillotchka  darling,  I  won't  do  it 
again  !  "  exclaimed  Sasha,  frowning  with  pain  and  pull- 
ing away  from  her. 

Liudmilla  let  go  of  the  reddened  ear,  gently  drew 
Sasha  to  her,  seated  him  on  her  knees  and  said  : 

''  Listen — three  scents  live  in  the  cyclamen — the  poor 
flower  smells  of  ambrosia — that  is  for  working  bees.  You 
know,  of  course,  that  in  Russian  this  is  called  '  sow- 
bread.' ' 

"  Sow-bread,"  repeated  Sasha  laughingly.  "  That's  a 
funny  name." 

"  Now,  don't  laugh,  you  young  scamp,"  said  Liud- 
milla as  she  caught  hold  of  his  other  ear,  and  continued  : 
"  Ambrosia,  and  the  bees  humming  over  it,  that's  the 
flower's  joy.  The  flower  also  smells  of  vanilla.  Now  this 
is  not  for  the  bees,  but  for  him  of  whom  they  dream,  and 
this  is  the  floAver's  desire — the  flower  and  the  golden 
sun  above  it.  The  flower's  third  perfume  smells  of  the 
sweet  tender  body  for  the  lover,  and  this  is  its  love — 
the  poor  flower  and  the  heavy  midday  sultriness.  The 
bee,  the  sun  and  the  sultriness — do  you  understand,  my 
dear  ?  " 

Sasha  silently  shook  his  head.  His  smooth  face  flamed 
and  his  long  dark  eyelashes  trembled  slightly.  Liudmilla 
looked  dreamily  into  the  distance  and  said  : 

"  It  gives  one  joy — the  gentle  and  sunny  cyclamen — 
it  draws  one  towards  desires,  which  give  sweetness  and 
shame,  and  it  stirs  the  blood.  Do  you  understand,  my 
little  sun,  when  it  feels  sweet  and  happy  and  sad  and 
one  wants  to  cry  ?  Do  you  understand  ?  That's  what 
it  is." 

She  pressed  her  lips  in  a  long  kiss  on  Sasha's. 

190 


Liudmilla  looked  pensively  in  front  of  her.  Suddenly 
a  smile  came  across  her  lips.  She  lightly  pushed  Sasha 
away  and  asked  : 

"  Do  you  like  roses  ?  " 

Sasha  sighed,  opened  his  eyes,  smiled  tenderly  and 
whispered  : 

"  Yes." 

"  Large  roses  ?  "  asked  Liudmilla. 

"  Yes,  all  sorts — large  and  small,"  replied  Sasha 
quickly,  and  he  gracefully  left  her  knees. 

"  And  so  you  like  rosotchki*  (little  roses)  ?  '  asked 
Liudmilla  gently,  and  her  sonorous  voice  trembled  from 
suppressed  laughter. 

"  Yes,  I  like  them,"  answered  Sasha  quickly. 

Liudmilla  began  to  laugh. 

"  You  stupid,  you  like  rosotchki  (strokes  with  a  rod), 
and  there's  no  one  to  whip  you,"  she  exclaimed. 

They  both  laughed  and  flushed. 

Desires  innocent  by  reason  of  their  being  aroused  un- 
avoidably, made  the  chief  charm  of  their  relation  for 
Liudmilla.  They  stirred  one,  and  yet  they  were  far  from 
the  coarse,  repulsive  attainment. 

They  began  to  argue  as  to  who  was  the  strongest. 
Liudmilla  said  : 

"  Well,  suppose  you  are  the  strongest,  what  then  ? 
The  thing  is,  who's  the  quickest." 

"  Well,  I'm  also  the  quickest,"  boasted  Sasha. 

"  So  you're  quick,"  exclaimed  Liudmilla  teasingly. 

They  discussed  the  matter  at  length.  At  last  Liud- 
milla suggested  : 

"  Well,  let's  wrestle." 

Sasha  laughed  and  said  : 

"  Well,  you  can't  get  the  best  of  me  !  " 

Liudmilla  began  to  tickle  him. 

*  "Rosotchki  means  " little  roses "  and  also  " rods "  and  " strokes 
from  a  rod." 

191 


"  So  that's  your  way,"  he  exclaimed  as  he  giggled,  and 
he  wriggled  away  from  her  and  caught  her  around  the 
waist. 

Then  a  tussle  began.  Liudmilla  saw  at  once  that 
Sasha  was  the  stronger.  As  she  could  not  beat  him  by 
strength,  she  cunningly  made  the  best  of  an  opportune 
moment  and  tripped  up  Sasha's  foot — he  fell  and  pulled 
Liudmilla  down  with  him.  Liudmilla  easily  freed  her- 
self and  pressed  him  down  on  the  floor.    Sasha  cried  : 

"  That's  not  fair  !  " 

Liudmilla  put  her  knees  on  his  stomach  and  held  him 
on  the  floor  with  her  hands.  Sasha  made  great  efforts  to 
get  free.  Liudmilla  began  to  tickle  him  again.  Sasha's 
loud  laughter  mingled  with  hers.  She  laughed  so  much 
that  she  had  to  let  Sasha  go.  She  fell  to  the  floor,  still 
laughing.  Sasha  jumped  to  his  feet.  He  was  red  and 
rather  provoked. 

"  Russalka  (water  nymph)  !  "  he  shouted. 

But  the  Russalka  was  lying  on  the  floor,  laughing. 

Liudmilla  seated  Sasha  on  her  knees.  Tired  with  the 
wrestling,  they  sat  happily  and  closely,  looking  into  each 
other's  eyes  and  smiling. 

"  I'm  heavy  for  you.  I  shall  hurt  your  knee.  You'd 
better  let  me  go." 

"  Never  mind,  sit  still,"  replied  Liudmilla  affection- 
ately.   "  You  yourself  said  you  liked  to  caress." 

She  stroked  his  head.  He  gently  put  his  head  against 
her.    She  said  : 

"  You're  very  handsome,  Sasha." 

Sasha  grew  red  and  laughed. 

"  What  an  idea  !  "  said  he. 

Conversations  and  thoughts  about  beauty,  when 
applied  to  himself,  somehow  perplexed  him ;  he  had 
never  as  yet  been  curious  to  find  out  whether  people 
considered  him  handsome  or  a  monster. 

Liudmilla  pinched  Sasha's  check,  which  made  him 
smile.     A  pretty  red  spot  showed  on  his  cheek.     Liud- 

192 


milla  pinched  the  other  cheek  also.  Sasha  did  not 
protest.    He  only  took  her  hand,  kissed  it  and  said  : 

"  You've  done  enough  pinching.  It  hurts  mer  and 
you'll  make  your  fingers  stiff." 

"  It  may  be  painful,  but  what  a  flatterer  you've  be- 


come." 


"  I  shall  have  to  do  my  lessons,"  said  Sasha.  '  You 
must  caress  me  a  little  while  longer  for  good  luck,  so  that 
I  can  get  a  five  for  my  Greek." 

"  So  you're  sending  me  away,"  said  Liudmilla. 

She  caught  hold  of  his  hand  and  rolled  the  sleeve  above 
the  elbow. 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?  "  asked  Sasha  in  confusion, 
blushing  guiltily. 

But  Liudmilla  looked  at  his  arm  admiringly  and 
turned  this  way  and  that  way. 

"  What  beautiful  arms  you've  got  !  "  she  said  clearly 
and  happily,  and  suddenly  kissed  it  near  the  elbow. 

Sasha  tried  to  drag  his  arm  away.  Liudmilla  held  it 
and  kissed  it  several  more  times.  Sasha  became  still  and 
cast  down  his  eyes.  And  a  strange  expression  came  over 
his  clear,  half-smiling  lips — and  under  the  shadow  of  his 
thick  eyelashes  his  hot  cheeks  began  to  pale. 

They  said  good-bye  to  each  other.  Sasha  escorted 
Liudmilla  as  far  as  the  gate.  He  would  have  gone  further 
but  she  forbade  it.    He  paused  at  the  gate  and  said  : 

"  Come  again  oftener,  my  dear,  bring  sweeter  cakes, 
do  you  hear  ?  " 

He  used  the  familiar  "  thou"  to  her  for  the  first  time, 
and  it  sounded  in  her  ear  like  a  gentle  caress.  She  em- 
braced and  kissed  him  impetuously,  and  ran  away. 
Sasha  stood  like  one  dazed. 

Sasha  had  promised  to  come.  The  appointed  hour 
had  passed  by  and  Sasha  had  not  arrived.  Liudmilla 
waited   impatiently — she   fidgeted    about   and   felt   dis- 

O — LITTLE  DEMON  193 


tressed  and  looked  out  of  the  window.  Whenever  she 
heard  steps  in  the  street  she  put  her  head  out  of  the 
window.    Her  sisters  teased  her.    She  said  angrily  : 

"  Let  me  alone  !  " 

Then  she  threw  herself  stormily  at  them  with  re- 
proaches, because  they  laughed  at  her.  It  was  already 
evident  that  Sasha  would  not  come.  Liudmilla  cried 
with  vexation  and  disappointment. 

Darya  continued  to  tease  her. 

Liudmilla  spoke  quietly  between  her  sobs,  and  in  the 
midst  of  her  distress  she  forgot  to  be  angry  with  them  : 

"  That  detestable  old  hag  wouldn't  let  him  come.  She 
keeps  him  tied  to  apron  strings  to  make  him  learn  Greek." 

"  Yes,  and  he's  a  hobbledehoy,  because  he  couldn't 
get  away,"  said  Darya  with  rough  sympathy. 

"  She  has  tied  herself  up  with  a  child,"  said  Valeria 
contemptuously.  Both  sisters,  though  they  laughed, 
sympathised  with  Liudmilla.  They  loved  each  other, 
and  they  loved  tenderly  but  not  strongly  :  a  superficial, 
tender  love.    Darya  said  : 

"  Why  are  you  crying  ?  Why  should  you  weep  your 
eyes  out  for  a  young  milksop  ?  Well,  you  might  say  that 
the  devil  has  bound  himself  to  an  infant  !  " 

"  Who's  a  devil  ?  "  shouted  Liudmilla  angrily. 

"  Why  you,"  answered  Darya  calmly,  "  are  young, 
but  .  .  ." 

Darya  did  not  end  her  sentence,  but  whistled  piercingly. 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Liudmilla,  and  her  voice  sounded 
strangely. 

A  strange,  severe  smile  shone  on  her  face  through  her 
tears,  like  a  bright,  flaming  ray  at  sunset  through  the 
last  drops  of  a  weary  rain.  Darya  said  in  a  rather 
annoyed  way  : 

"  What  do  you  find  interesting  in  him  ?  Tell  me, 
please." 

Liudmilla,  still  with  the  same  curious  smile  on  her 
face,  said  slowly  and  pensively  : 

194 


"  How  beautiful  he  is  !  How  many  untouched  possi- 
bilities he  has !  " 

"  That's  very  cheap,"  said  Darya  decidedly.  "  All 
small  boys  have  them." 

"  No,  it  isn't  cheap,"  said  Liudmilla.  "  They're 
unclean  boys." 

"  And  is  he  clean  ?  "  asked  Valeria  ;  she  pronounced 
the  word  "  clean  "  rather  contemptuously. 

"  A  lot  you  understand,"  said  Liudmilla,  and  again 
began  to  speak  quietly  and  pensively.  "  He's  quite 
innocent." 

Darya  smiled. 

"  Oh,  is  he  ?  "  said  Darya  ironically. 

"  The  best  age  for  a  boy  is  fourteen  or  fifteen.  He 
doesn't  understand  anything  and  yet  he  has  a  kind  of 
intuition.    And  he  hasn't  a  disgusting  beard." 

"  A  wonderful  pleasure  !  "  said  Valeria  with  a  con- 
temptuous grimace. 

She  was  feeling  sad.  It  seemed  to  her  that  she  was 
small,  weak  and  frail,  and  she  envied  her  sisters — she 
envied  Darya  her  gay  laughter  and  even  Liudmilla's 
tears.    Liudmilla  said  again  : 

"  You  don't  understand  anything.  I  don't  love  him 
at  all  as  you  think.  To  love  a  boy  is  better  than  to  fall 
in  love  with  a  commonplace  face  with  moustaches.  I 
love  him  innocently.    I  don't  want  anything  from  him." 

"  If  you  don't  want  anything  from  him,  why  do  you 
torment  him  ?  "  said  Darya  harshly. 

Liudmilla  grew  red  and  a  guilty  expression  came  on  to 
her  face.  Darya  took  pity  on  her  ;  she  walked  up  to  Liud- 
milla, put  her  arms  round  her  and  said  : 

"  Don't  mind  what  we  say — it's  only  our  spitefulness  !  " 

Liudmilla  began  to  cry  again,  and  pressing  against 
Darya's  shoulder,  said  sadly  : 

"  I  know  there's  nothing  for  me  to  hope  for  from  him 
but  if  he  would  only  caress  me  a  little  !  " 

"  What's  the   matter  ?  "   said  Darya   as   she   walked 

195 


away  from  Liudmilla  ;  she  put  her  hands  on  her  hips  and 
sang  loudly  : 

"  Last  night  I  left  my  darling  ..." 

Valeria  broke  into  a  clear,  fragile  laugh.  And  Liud- 
milla's  eyes  looked  gay  and  mischievous  again.  She 
walked  into  her  room  impetuously  and  sprinkled  herself 
with  Korylopsis — the  sweet,  piquant,  odour  seized  upon 
her  seductively.  She  walked  out  into  the  street,  in  her 
best  clothes,  feeling  distraught ;  and  an  indiscreet  attrac- 
tiveness was  wafted  from  her.  "  Perhaps  I  shall  meet 
him,"  she  thought. 

She  did  meet  him. 

"  Well,  you're  a  nice  one,"  she  exclaimed  reproachfully 
and  yet  happily. 

Sasha  felt  both  confused  and  glad. 

"  I  had  no  time,"  he  said.  "  There  are  too  many 
lessons  to  do.    Really  I  had  no  time." 

"  You're  fibbing,  little  one,  but  come  along." 

He  resisted  for  a  while,  but  it  was  clear  that  he  was 
glad  to  let  Liudmilla  take  him  away  with  her.  And 
Liudmilla  brought  him  home. 

"  I've  found  him,"  she  said  to  her  sisters  triumphantly, 
and  taking  Sasha  by  the  shoulders,  she  led  him  into  her 
room. 

Sasha,  putting  his  hands  inside  his  belt,  stood  un- 
easily in  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  felt  both  happy  and 
sad.  There  seemed  to  be  an  odour  of  new  pleasant  scents 
there,  and  in  this  odour  there  was  something  that  pro- 
voked and  irritated  the  nerves  like  the  contact  of  living 
rough  little  snakes. 


196 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

Peredonov  was  returning  from  the  lodgings  of  one  of 
his  pupils.  Quite  suddenly  he  was  caught  in  a  drizzling 
rain.  He  tried  to  think  where  he  could  shelter  for  a 
while,  so  as  not  to  spoil  his  new  silk  umbrella  in  the  rain. 
Across  the  way  was  a  detached,  two-storeyed,  stone  house ; 
on  it  was  the  brass  plate  of  the  Notary  Public,  Goudayev- 
sky.  The  notary's  son  was  a  pupil  in  the  second  form  of 
the  gymnasia.  Peredonov  decided  to  go  in.  Incidentally 
he  would  make  a  complaint  against  the  notary's  son. 

He  found  both  parents  at  home.  They  met  him  with 
a  good  deal  of  fuss.  Everything  was  done  there  in  that 
way. 

Nikolai  Mikhailovitch  Goudayevsky  was  a  short, 
robust,  dark  man,  bald  and  with  a  long  beard.  His  move- 
ments were  impetuous  and  unexpected.  He  seemed  not 
to  walk  but  to  flutter  along.  He  was  small  like  a  sparrow, 
and  it  was  always  impossible  to  tell  from  his  face  and 
attitude  what  he  would  do  the  next  minute.  In  the 
midst  of  a  serious  conversation  he  would  suddenly  throw 
out  his  knee,  which  would  not  so  much  amuse  people  as 
perplex  them  as  to  his  motive.  At  home  or  when  visiting 
he  would  sit  quiet  for  a  long  time  and  then  suddenly 
jump  up  without  any  visible  cause,  pace  quickly  up  and 
down  the  room,  and  exclaim  or  knock  something.  In  the 
street  he  would  walk,  then  suddenly  pause,  or  make 
some  gesture  or  gymnastic  exercise,  and  then  he  would 
continue  his  walk.  On  the  documents  which  he  drew  up 
or  attested  Goudayevsky  liked  to  write  ridiculous  re- 
marks, as,  for  example,  instead  of  writing  about  Ivan 
Ivanitch  Ivanov  that  he  lived  on  the  Moscow  Square 
in   Ermillova's    house,    he   would    write    Ivan    Ivanitch 

197 


Ivanov  who  lived  on'jthe  Market  Square  in  that  quarter 
where  it  was  impossible  to  breathe  for  the  stench ;  and 
so 'forth  ;  and  Ik  even  made  a  note  sometimes  of  the 
number  of  geese  and  hens  kept  by  the  man  whose  signa- 
ture he  was  attesting. 

Julia  Goudayevskaya  was  a  tall,  slim,  bony  woman, 
passionate  and  extremely  sentimental,  who,  in  spite  of 
the  disparity  of  their  figures,  resembled  her  husband  in 
certain  habits  :  she  had  the  same  impetuous  and  dispro- 
portionate movements,  unlike  those  of  other  people. 
She  was  dressed  youthfully  and  in  colours,  and  whenever 
she  made  her  quick  movements  the  long  variegated 
ribbons,  with  which  she  loved  to  adorn  in  abundance  her 
dress  and  hair,  flew  in  all  directions. 

Antosha,  a  slender,  alert  boy,  bowed  courteously. 
Peredonov  was  seated  in  the  drawing-room  and  he  im- 
mediately began  to  complain  of  Antosha  :  that  he  was 
lazy,  inattentive,  and  did  not  listen  in  class  but  chattered 
and  laughed,  and  was  mischievous  during  recess.  An- 
tosha was  astonished — he  did  not  know  that  he  was  con- 
sidered such  a  wicked  boy — and  he  began  to  defend 
himself  hotly.    Both  parents  were  annoyed. 

"  Will  you  be  good  enough  to  tell  me,"  shouted  the 
father,  "  in  what  precisely  his  mischievousness  consists  ?  ' 

"  Nika,  don't  defend  him,"  cried  the  mother.  "  He 
shouldn't  get  up  to  mischief." 

"  But  what  mischief  has  he  done  ?  "  enquired  the 
father,  running,  almost  rolling  on  his  short  legs. 

"  He's  generally  mischievous.  He  raises  a  racket  and 
he  fights,"  said  Peredonov  morosely.  "  He's  always  in 
mischief." 

"  I  don't  fight  at  all,"  exclaimed  Antosha  dolefully. 
"  Ask  anyone  you  like.    I  haven't  fought  with  anybody." 

"  He  doesn't  let  anyone  pass,"  said  Peredonov. 

"  Very  well,  I'll  go  to  the  gymnasia  myself  and  I'll 
ask  the  inspector,"  said  Goudayevsky  decisively. 

"  Nika,   Nika,   why   don't  you   believe   him  ?  "   cried 

198 


Julia.    "  Would  you  like  to  see  Antosha  turn  out  a  good- 
for-nothing  ?    He  needs  a  beating." 

"  Nonsense,  nonsense  !  "  cried  the  father. 

"  I'll  give  him  a  beating  without  fail,"  exclaimed 
Julia,  as  she  caught  her  son  by  the  shoulder  and  was 
about  to  drag  him  into  the  kitchen. 

"  Antosha  !  "  she  cried.  "  Come  along  ;  I'll  give  you 
a  whipping." 

"  I'll  not  let  you  have  him,"  cried  the  father,  tearing 
his  son  away  from  her. 

His  mother  held  on  to  him  ;  Antosha  made  despairing 
outcries,  and  the  parents  tustled  with  each  other. 

"  Help  me,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  cried  Julia.  '  Hold 
this  monster  while  I  settle  with  Antosha." 

Peredonov  went  to  help.  But  Goudayevsky  got  his 
son  away  from  Julia,  pushed  her  aside,  sprang  towards 
Peredonov  and  cried  threateningly  : 

"  Don't  you  come  here  !  When  two  dogs  are  fighting 
the  third  one  had  better  keep  away  !  Yes,  and  I'll  see 
to  you  !  " 

Red,  unkempt,  perspiring,  he  shook  his  fist  in  the  air. 
Peredonov  retreated,  muttering  inaudible  words.  Julia 
ran  round  her  husband  and  tried  to  catch  hold  of  An- 
tosha. His  father  hid  him  behind  and  pulled  him  by  the 
arm,  now  to  the  right,  now  to  the  left.  Julia,  her  eyes 
gleaming,  cried  : 

"  He'll  grow  up  to  be  a  cut-throat !  He'll  get  into 
gaol  !    Hard  labour'll  be  his  fate." 

"  A  plague  on  your  tongue  !  "  cried  Goudayevsky. 
"  Shut  up,  you  wicked  fool." 

"  Oh,  you  tyrant !  "  screamed  Julia,  and  running  up 
to  her  husband  hit  him  with  her  fist  on  the  back  and  ran 
impetuously  out  of  the  drawing-room. 

Goudayevsky  clenched  his  fists  and  ran  up  to  Pere- 
donov. 

"  So  you've  come  to  raise  a  riot  here  !  "  he  cried.  "  You 
say  Antosha's  mischievous  ?     You're  a  liar.     He's  not 

199 


mischievous.  And  if  he  were,  I  should  know  it  without 
you  ;  and  I  don't  want  anything  to  do  with  you.  You 
go  about  the  town  taking  in  fools.  You  beat  their  little 
boys,  and  expect  to  get  a  Master's  diploma  for  birching. 
But  you've  come  to  the  wrong  place.  Sir,  I  ask  you  to 
clear  out  !  " 

As  he  was  saying  this  he  jumped  towards  Peredonov 
and  got  him  into  a  corner.  Peredonov  was  frightened 
and  would  have  been  glad  to  run  away,  but  Goudayevsky 
in  his  excitement  did  not  notice  that  he  was  standing  in 
his  way.  Antosha  seized  hold  of  the  tails  of  his  father's 
frock-coat  and  began  to  tug  at  them.  His  father  angrily 
turned  on  him  and  tried  to  kick  him.  But  Antosha 
quickly  jumped  aside  without,  however,  letting  go  of  his 
father's  coat. 

"  Be  quiet  there,"  exclaimed  Goudayevsky.  "  Don't 
forget  yourself,  Antosha." 

"  Papotchka,"  cried  Antosha,  continuing  to  tug  at  his 
father's  coat-tails,  "  you  are  keeping  Ardalyon  Borisitch 
from  going." 

Goudayevsky  quickly  jumped  to  the  side,  Antosha 
barely  managed  to  escape  him. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Goudayevsky  and  pointed  to 
the  doer,  "  that's  the  way  out,  and  I  won't  detain  you." 

Peredonov  quickly  left  the  room.  Goudayevsky  put 
his  fingers  to  his  nose  at  him,  then  made  a  motion  with 
his  knee  as  if  he  were  kicking  him  out.  Antosha  sniggered. 
Goudayevsky  turned  on  him  savagely  : 

"  Antosha,  don't  forget  yourself  !  Don't  forget  to- 
morroAv.  I'm  going  to  the  gymnasia,  and  if  it's  true  I'll 
hand  you  over  to  your  mother  for  a  whipping  !  " 

"  I  wasn't  mischievous.  He's  a  liar,"  said  Antosha 
piteously  and  in  a  squeaking  voice. 

"  Antosha,  don't  forget  yourself,"  shouted  his  father. 
"  You  shouldn't  say  that  he's  a  liar,  but  that  he's  made 
a  mistake.  Only  little  boys  tell  lies — grown-ups  make 
mistakes." 

200 


In  the  meantime  Peredonov  managed  to  find  his  way 
into  the  half-dark  hall,  discovered  his  overcoat  with 
some  difficulty  and  began  to  put  it  on.  His  fear  and 
nervousness  hindered  him  from  finding  his  sleeve.  No 
one  came  to  his  assistance.  Quite  suddenly  Julia  ran 
out  from  a  side  door,  rustling  her  flying  ribbons,  and 
whispered  excitedly  in  his  ear,  making  wild  gestures  and 
standing  on  tip-toe.  Peredonov  did  not  at  first  under- 
stand. 

"  I'm  so  grateful  to  you,"  he  heard  at  last.  "  It's  so 
good  of  you  to  take  such  an  interest  in  the  boy.  Most 
people  are  so  indifferent,  but  you  understand  a  mother's 
difficulties.  It  is  so  hard  to  bring  children  up  ;  you  can't 
imagine  how  hard  it  is.  I  have  only  two  and  they  give 
me  no  end  of  worry.  My  husband  is  a  tyrant ;  he's  a 
terrible,  terrible  man.  Don't  you  think  so  ?  You've 
seen  for  yourself." 

"  Yes,"  mumbled  Peredonov.  "  Well,  your  husband — 
er — well,  he  shouldn't  ...  I  give  a  good  deal  of  atten- 
tion to  it  and  he  .  .  ." 

"  Oh,  don't  say  any  more,"  whispered  Julia,  "  he's  a 
terrible  man.  He's  bringing  me  down  to  my  grave,  and 
he'll  be  glad  of  it,  and  then  he'll  corrupt  my  children,  my 
dear  Antosha.  But  I'm  a  mother,  I  won't  give  him  up  ; 
I'll  give  him  a  beating  all  the  same." 

"  He  won't  let  you,"  said  Peredonov,  and  jerked  his 
head  in  the  direction  of  the  drawing-room. 

"  Wait  till  he  goes  to  his  club.  He  won't  take  Antosha 
with  him  !  He'll  go  and  I  shall  keep  quiet  until  then,  as 
if  I  agreed  with  him ;  but  once  he  goes  I'll  give  Antosha 
a  beating  and  you  will  help  me.  You  will  help  me,  won't 
you  ?  " 

Peredonov  reflected  and  then  said  : 

"  Very  well,  but  how  shall  I  know  when  to  come  ?  ' 

"  I'll  send  for  you,"  whispered  Julia.  "  You  wait, 
and  as  soon  as  he  goes  to  his  club  I'll  send  for 
you." 

201 


In  the  evening  Peredonov  received  a  note  from  Gou- 
dayevskaya.    It  ran  : 

"  Most  esteemed  Ardalyon  Borisitch, 

"  My  husband  has  gone  to  his  club,  and  now  I 
am  free  from  his  savagery  until  one  o'clock.  Do  me 
the  kindness  to  come  as  soon  as  you  can  and  help  me 
with  my  misbehaving  son.  I  realise  that  he  must  be 
rid  of  his  faults  while  he's  still  young,  for  afterwards 
it  may  be  too  late. 

"  With  genuine  respect, 

"  Julia  Goudayevskaya. 

"  P.S. — Please  come  as  soon  as  possible,  otherwise 
Antosha  will  go  to  sleep  and  I  shall  have  to  wake  him." 

Peredonov  quickly  put  on  his  overcoat,  wrapped  a 
scarf  round  his  neck  and  prepared  to  go. 

"  Where  are  you  going  so  late,  Ardalyon  Borisitch  ?  ' 
asked  Varvara. 

"  I'm  going  on  business,"  replied  Peredonov  morosely, 
and  left  abruptly. 

Varvara  reflected  sadly  that  again  she  would  be  un- 
able to  sleep  for  some  time.  If  she  could  only  hasten  the 
marriage.  Then  she  could  sleep  both  night  and  day — 
that  would  be  bliss  ! 

Once  in  the  street,  Peredonov  was  assailed  by  doubts. 
Suppose  it  was  a  trap  ?  And  suppose  it  suddenly  turned 
out  that  Goudayevsky  was  at  home,  and  they  should 
seize  him  and  beat  him  ?  Wouldn't  it  be  better  for  him 
to  turn  back. 

"  No,  I'd  better  go  as  far  as  the  house,  and  then  I  shall 
see,"  Peredonov  decided. 

The  night  was  quiet,  cold  and  dark.  It  enveloped  him 
on  all  sides  and  compelled  him  to  walk  slowly.  Fresh 
gusts  of  wind  blew  from  the  neighbouring  fields.  Light, 
rustling  noises  could  be  heard  in  the  grass  along  the  fences, 

202 


and  everything  around  him  seemed  suspicious  and  strange 
— perhaps  someone  was  following  stealthily  behind  and 
watching  him.  All  objects  were  strangely  and  un- 
expectedly concealed  by  the  darkness,  as  if  another 
different  nocturnal  life  awoke  in  them,  incomprehensible 
to  man  and  hostile  to  him.  Peredonov  walked  quickly 
in  the  streets  and  mumbled  : 

"  You  won't  gain  anything  by  following  me.  I'm  not 
going  on  any  bad  business.  I'm  going  in  the  interest  of 
my  work.    So  there  !  " 

At  last  he  reached  Goudayevsky's  house.  A  light  was 
visible  in  one  of  the  windows  facing  the  street ;  the  re- 
maining four  were  dark.  Peredonov  ascended  the  steps 
very  quietly,  stood  a  while  and  put  his  ears  to  the  door 
and  listened — everything  was  quiet.  He  lightly  pulled 
the  brass  handle  of  the  bell — a  distant,  faint  tinkle  of  a 
bell  was  heard.  But,  faint  though  it  was,  it  frightened 
Peredonov,  as  if  this  sound  would  awaken  all  the  hostile 
powers  and  make  them  come  to  this  door.  Peredonov 
quickly  ran  down  the  steps  and  hid  behind  a  post,  press- 
ing close  against  the  wall. 

Several  moments  passed.  Peredonov's  heart  jumped 
and  beat  heavily. 

Presently  light  footsteps  could  be  heard  and  the  noise 
of  a  door  opening.    Julia  looked  out  into  the  street  and 
her  black,  passionate  eyes  gleamed  in  the  darkness. 
'  Who's  there  ?  "  she  asked  in  a  loud  whisper. 

Peredonov  stepped  a  little  away  from  the  wall  and 
looked  into  the  narrow  opening  of  the  door  where  it 
was  dark  and  quiet,  and  asked  also  in  a  tremulous 
whisper  : 

"  Has  Nikolai  Mikhailovitch  gone  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he's  gone,  he's  gone,"  she  whispered  joyously. 

Peredonov  glanced  timidly  around  him  and  followed 
her  into  the  dark  passage. 

"  I'm  sorry  I  have  no  light,"  whispered  Julia,  "  but 
I'm  afraid  someone  might  see  and  they  might  gossip." 

203 


She  led  Peredonov  up  the  staircase  into  a  corridor, 
where  a  small  lamp  hung,  throwing  a  dim  light  on  the 
upper  stairs.  Julia  laughed  quietly  and  joyously,  and 
her  ribbons  trembled  from  her  laughter. 

"  Yes,  he's  gone,"  she  whispered  gleefully,  as  she 
looked  around  and  scrutinised  Peredonov  with  passion- 
ately burning  eyes.  "  I  was  afraid  he  would  remain  at 
home  to-night  as  he  was  in  a  great  rage.  But  he  couldn't 
do  without  his  game  of  Avhist.  I've  even  sent  the  maid 
away — there's  only  the  baby's  nurse  in  the  house — 
otherwise  we  might  be  interrupted.  For  you  know  what 
sort  of  people  there  are  nowadays." 

A  heat  came  from  Julia — she  was  hot  and  dry,  like  a 
splinter.  Once  or  twice  she  caught  Peredonov  by  the 
sleeve,  and  these  quick  contacts  seemed  to  send  small 
dry  fires  through  his  whole  body.  They  walked  quietly 
and  on  tip-toe  through  the  corridor,  past  several  closed 
doors,  and  stopped  at  the  last — it  was  the  door  of  the 
children's  room.  .  .  . 

Peredonov  left  Julia  at  midnight,  when  she  began  to 
expect  her  husband's  return.  He  walked  in  the  dark 
streets,  morose  and  gloomy.  It  seemed  to  him  that  some- 
one had  been  standing  by  the  house  and  was  now  follow- 
ing him.    He  mumbled  : 

"  I  went  on  account  of  my  work.  It  wasn't  my  fault. 
She  wanted  it  herself.  You  can't  deceive  me — you've 
got  the  wrong  man." 

Varvara  was  not  yet  asleep  when  he  returned.  Her 
cards  were  lying  in  front  of  her. 

It  seemed  to  Peredonov  that  someone  might  step  in 
when  he  entered.  It  was  possible  that  Varvara  herself 
had  let  the  enemy  come  in.    Peredonov  said  : 

"  If  I  go  to  sleep  you'll  bewitch  me  with  the  cards. 
Give  me  the  cards,  or  you'll  bewitch  me." 

He  took  the  cards  away  and  hid  them  under  his  pillow. 
Varvara  smiled  and  said  : 

204 


"  You're  making  a  fool  of  yourself.  I  haven't  the  power 
to  bewitch  anyone,  and  as  if  I  wanted  it !  " 

He  felt  vexed  and  frightened  because  she  was  smiling  : 
that  meant,  he  thought,  that  she  might  bewitch  him 
even  without  cards.  The  cat  was  shrinking  under  the 
bed,  and  his  green  eyes  sparkled — one  might  be  be- 
witched by  his  fur,  if  it  were  stroked  in  the  dark  so  that 
electric  sparks  flew  from  it.  Behind  the  chest  of  drawers 
the  grey  nedotikomka  gleamed  again — was  it  not  Varvara 
who  called  it  up  at  nights  with  a  slight  whistle  like  a 
snore ! 

Peredonov  dreamed  a  repulsive,  terrible  dream : 
Pilnikov  came,  stood  on  the  threshold,  beckoned  him 
and  smiled.  It  was  as  if  someone  drew  him  towards 
Pilnikov,  who  led  him  through  dark,  dirty  streets  while 
the  cat  ran  beside  and  his  green  eyes  gleamed  and 
shone.  .  .  . 


CHAPTER   XIX 

Peredonov's  strange  behaviour  worried  Khripatch  more 
and  more.  He  consulted  the  school  physician  and  asked 
him  whether  Peredonov  were  not  out  of  his  mind.  The 
doctor  laughingly  replied  that  Peredonov  had  no  mind 
to  be  out  of,  and  that  he  was  simply  acting  stupidly. 
There  were  also  complaints.  Adamenko's  was  the  first  : 
she  sent  to  the  Head-Master  her  brother's  exercise-book 
which  had  been  given  only  one  mark  for  a  very  good 
piece  of  work.  The  Head-Master,  during  one  of  the 
recesses,  asked  Peredonov  to  come  and  see  him. 

"  Yes,  it's  quite  true,  he  does  look  a  little  mad," 
thought  Khripatch  when  he  saw  traces  of  perplexity  and 
terror  on  Peredonov's  dull,  gloomy  face. 

"  I've  got  a  bone  to  pick  with  you,"  said  Khripatch 
quickly  and  dryly.  "  Whenever  I  have  to  work  in  a 
room  next  to  yours  my  head  is  split — there's  such  an 
uproar  of  laughter  in  your  class.  May  I  request  you  to 
give  lessons  of  a  less  cheerful  nature  ?  '  To  scoff  and 
always  scoff — don't  you  get  tired  ?  '  "  * 

"  It  isn't  my  fault,"  said  Peredonov,  "  they  laugh  by 
themselves.  It  is  impossible  to  mention  anything  from 
the  grammar  or  the  satires  of  Kantemir  without  their 
laughing.CS  They  are^a  bad  lot.  TheyTought  to  be  well 
scolded." 

"  It's  desirable  and  even  necessary  that  the  work  in 
class  should  be  of  a  serious  character,"  said  Khripatch 
sarcastically.     "  And  another  thing " 

Khripatch  showed  Peredonov  two  exercise-books  and 
said  : 

*  A  quotation  from  Griboyedov's,  "The  Misfortune  of  Being  too 
Clever." 

206 


"  Here  are  two  exercise-books  from  two  students  of 
one  class  on  your  subject :  Adamenko's  and  my  son's. 
I  have  compared  them  and  I  am  compelled  to  make  the 
inference  that  you  are  not  giving  your  full  attention  to 
your  work.  Adamenko's  last  work  which  was  done  very 
satisfactorily  was  marked  one,  while  my  son's  work, 
written  much  worse,  was  marked  four.  It  is  evident  that 
you  have  made  a  mistake,  that  you  have  given  one 
pupil's  marks  to  another  and  vice  versa.  Though  it 
is  natural  for  a  man  to  make  mistakes,  still  I  must  ask 
you  to  avoid  such  errors  in  future.  It  quite  properly 
arouses  dissatisfaction  in  the  parents  and  in  the  pupils 
themselves." 

Peredonov  mumbled  something  inaudible. 

From  spite  he  began  to  tease  the  smaller  boys  who 
had  been  recently  punished  at  his  instigation.  He  was 
especially  severe  on  Kramarenko.  The  boy  kept  silent 
and  went  pale  under  his  dark  tan  ;   his  eyes  gleamed. 

As  Kramarenko  left  the  gymnasia  that  day,  he  did  not 
hasten  home.  He  stood  at  the  gates  and  watched  the 
entrance.  When  Peredonov  went  out  Kramarenko  fol- 
lowed him  at  some  distance,  waiting  till  a  few  passers-by 
had  got  between  him  and  Peredonov. 

Peredonov  walked  slowly.  The  cloudy  weather 
depressed  him.  During  the  last  few  days  his  face  had 
assumed  a  duller  expression.  His  glance  was  either  fixed 
on  something  in  the  distance  or  wandered  strangely.  It 
seemed  as  if  he  were  constantly  looking  into  an  object. 
To  his  eyes  objects  appeared  vague  or  doubled  or  mean- 
ingless. 

Who  was  he  scrutinising  so  closely  ?  Informers.  They 
concealed  themselves  behind  every  object,  they  whispered 
and  laughed.  Peredonov's  enemies  had  sent  against  him 
a  whole  army  of  informers.  Sometimes  Peredonov  tried 
quickly  to  surprise  them.  But  they  always  managed  to 
escape  in  time — as  if  they  sank  through  the  earth.  .  .  . 

207 


Peredonov  suddenly  heard  quick,  bold  footsteps  on 
the  pavement  behind  him,  and  looked  around  him  in 
fright — Kramarenko  paused  near  him  and  looked  at  him 
decidedly,  resolutely  and  malignantly,  with  burning 
eyes  ;  pale,  thin,  like  a  savage  ready  to  throw  himself 
at  an  enemy.    This  look  frightened  Peredonov. 

"  Suppose  he  should  suddenly  bite  me  ?  "  he  thought. 

He  walked  quicker,  but  Kramarenko  did  not  leave 
him ;  he  walked  slowly  and  Kramarenko  kept  pace  with 
him.     Peredonov  paused  and  said  angrily  : 

"Why  are  you  following  me,  you  little  dark  wretch? 
I'll  take  you  to  your  father  at  once." 

Kramarenko  also  paused  and  continued  to  look  at 
Peredonov.  They  stood  facing  one  another  on  the  loose 
pavement  of  the  deserted  street,  beside  the  grey,  depress- 
ing fence.  Kramarenko  trembled  and  said  in  a  hissing 
voice  : 

"  Scoundrel  !  " 

He  smiled  and  turned  to  go  away. 

He  made  three  steps,  paused,  looked  around  and 
repeated  louder  : 

"  What  a  scoundrel  !    Vermin  !  " 

He  spat  and  walked  away.  Peredonov  looked  after 
him  and  then  turned  homewards.  Confused  and  timorous 
thoughts  crowded  through  his  head.  Vershina  called  to 
him.  She  stood  smoking  behind  the  bars  of  her  garden- 
gate,  wrapped  up  in  a  large  black  shawl.  Peredonov  did 
not  at  once  recognise  her.  Something  malignant  in  her 
figure  seemed  to  threaten  him.  She  stood  like  a  black 
sorceress  and  blew  out  smoke,  as  if  she  were  casting  a 
spell.  He  spat  and  pronounced  an  exorcism.  Vershina 
laughed  and  asked  : 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you,  Ardalyon  Borisitch  ?  ': 

Peredonov  looked  vaguely  at  her  and  said  at  last : 

"  Ah,  it's  you  !    I  didn't  recognise  you." 

"  That's  a  good  sign.  It  means  I'll  soon  be  rich,"  said 
Vershina. 

208 


This  did  not  please  Peredonov,  he  wanted  to  be  rich 
himself. 

"  Get  away  !  "  he  exclaimed  angrily.  "  Why  should 
you  be  rich — you'll  always  be  what  you  are  now." 

"  Never  mind,  I  shall  win  twenty  thousand,"  said 
Vershina  with  a  wry  smile. 

"  No,  I  shall  win  the  twenty  thousand,"  argued 
Peredonov. 

"  I  shall  be  in  one  drawing  and  you'll  be  in  another," 
said  Vershina. 

"  You're  lying,"  said  Peredonov  angrily.  "  Who  ever 
heard  of  two  people  winning  at  once  in  the  same  town. 
I  tell  you  I'm  going  to  win  it." 

Vershina  noticed  that  he  was  angry.  She  ceased  to 
argue.    She  opened  the  gate  to  entice  him  in  and  said  : 

"  There's  no  reason  for  you  to  stand  there.  Come  in, 
Mourin's  here." 

Mourin's  name  recalled  something  pleasant  to  Pere- 
donov— drink  and  zakouska.    He  entered. 

In  the  drawing-room,  darkened  by  the  trees  outside, 
sat  Marta,  looking  very  happy,  with  a  red  sash  on  and  with 
a  kerchief  round  her  neck,  Mourin,  more  unkempt  than 
usual,  and  very  cheerful  for  some  reason  or  other,  and  a 
grown-up  schoolboy,  Vitkevitch.  He  paid  attentions  to 
Vershina,  and  imagined  that  she  was  in  love  with  him  : 
he  thought  of  leaving  the  school,  marrying  Vershina  and 
managing  her  estate. 

Mourin  met  Peredonov  with  exaggeratedly  cordial 
exclamations,  his  expression  became  even  gayer  and  his 
little  eyes  looked  fat — all  this  did  not  go  with  his  stout 
figure  and  untidy  hair  in  which  even  some  whisps  of  straw 
could  be  seen. 

"  I'm  attending  to  business,"  he  said  loudly  and 
hoarsely.  "  I've  business  everywhere,  and  here  these 
charming  ladies  are  spoiling  me  with  tea." 

"  Business  ?  "  replied  Peredonov  gruffly.  "  What  sort 
of  business  have  you  got  ?     You  are  not  in  Government 

P— LITTLE  DEMON  209 


Service  and  you've  got  money  coming  in.  Now  I  have 
business." 

"  Well,  what  if  you  have,  it's  only  getting  other  people's 
money,"  said  Mourin  with  a  loud  laugh. 

Vershina  smiled  wryly  and  seated  Peredonov  near  the 
table.  On  a  round  table  near  the  sofa  glasses  and  cups 
of  tea,  rum  and  cranberry  jam  were  crowded  together 
with  a  filigree  silver  dish,  covered  with  a  knitted  doyley, 
a  small  cake-basket  of  tea-cake  and  home-made  ginger- 
bread stuck  with  almonds. 

A  strong  odour  of  rum  came  from  Mourin's  glass  of 
tea,  while  Vitkevitch  put  a  good  deal  of  jam  into  a  small 
glass  plate,  shaped  like  a  shell.  Marta  was  eating  little 
slices  of  tea-cake  with  visible  satisfaction.  Vershina 
offered  Peredonov  refreshments — he  refused  to  take  tea. 

"  I  might  be  poisoned,"  he  thought.  "  It's  very  easy 
to  poison  you — you  simply  drink  and  don't  notice  any- 
thing— there  are  sweet  poisons — and  then  you  go  home 
and  turn  up  your  toes." 

And  he  felt  vexed  because  they  put  jam  before  Mourin, 
and  when  he  came  they  didn't  take  the  trouble  to  get 
a  new  jar  of  better  jam.  They  hadn't  cranberry  jam 
only  but  several  other  kinds. 

Vershina  really  did  give  a  good  deal  of  attention  to 
Mourin.  Seeing  that  she  had  little  hope  of  Peredonov, 
she  was  looking  elsewhere  for  a  husband  for  Marta.  Now 
she  was  trying  to  catch  Mourin.  Half-civilised  by  his 
pursuit  of  hard-earned  gains,  this  landed  proprietor 
eagerly  fell  to  the  lure.    Marta  pleased  him. 

Marta  was  happy  because  it  was  her  constant  desire 
to  find  a  husband  and  to  have  a  good  house  and  home — 
that  would  be  complete  happiness.  And  she  looked  at 
Mourin  with  loving  eyes.  The  huge  forty-ycars-old  man, 
with  his  coarse  voice  and  plain  face,  seemed  to  her  in 
every  movement  a  model  of  manly  strength,  cleverness, 
beauty  and  goodness. 

Peredonov  noticed  the  loving  glances  exchanged   by 

210 


Mourin  and  Marta — he  noticed  them  because  he  expected 
Marta  to  pay  attention  to  him.  He  said  gruffly  to 
Mourin  : 

"  You  sit  there  like  a  bridegroom.  Your  whole  face  is 
shining." 

"  I  have  reason  to  be  happy,"  said  Mourin  in  a  brisk, 
cheerful  voice.    "  I  have  managed  my  business  very  well." 

He  winked  at  his  hostesses.  They  both  had  gay  smiles. 
Peredonov  asked  gruffly,  contemptuously  screwing  up 
his  eyes  : 

"  What  is  it  ?  Have  you  found  a  bride  ?  Has  she  a 
big  dowry  ?  " 

Mourin  went  on  as  if  he  had  not  heard  these  questions  : 

"  Natalya  Afanasyevna  there — may  God  be  good  to 
her — has  agreed  to  take  charge  of  my  Vaniushka.  He'll 
live  here  as  if  he  were  in  Christ's  bosom,  and  my  mind 
will  be  at  rest,  knowing  that  he  won't  be  spoiled," 

"  He'll  get  into  mischief  with  Vladya,"  said  Peredonov 
morosely.    "  They'll  burn  the  house  down." 

"  He  wouldn't  dare,"  shouted  Mourin.  "  Don't  you 
worry  about  that,  my  dear  Natalya  Afanasyevna,  you'll 
find  him  as  straight  as  a  fiddle-string." 

To  cut  short  this  conversation,  Vershina  said  with  her 
wry  smile  : 

"  I  should  like  to  eat  something  tart." 

"  Perhaps  you'd  like  some  bilberries  and  apples — I'll 
get  them,"  said  Marta  quickly  rising  from  her  chair. 

"  Do,  please." 

Marta  ran  out  of  the  room.  Vershina  did  not  even 
look  after  her.  She  was  used  to  taking  Marta' s  services 
for  granted.  She  was  sitting  deep  in  her  sofa  puffing  out 
blue  curling  clouds  of  smoke,  and  compared  the  two  men 
talking  to  each  other,  looking  at  Peredonov  angrily  and 
indifferently,  at  Mourin  gaily  and  animatedly.  Mourin 
pleased  her  more  of  the  two.  He  had  a  good-natured 
face,  while  Peredonov  could  not  even  smile.  She  liked 
everything  in  Mourin — he  was  large,  stout,  attractive, 

211 


spoke  in  an  agreeable,  low  voice,  and  was  very  respectful 
to  her.  Vershina  even  thought  at  certain  moments  that 
she  ought  to  arrange  the  matter  so  that  Mourin  should 
become  engaged  not  to  Marta  but  to  herself.  But  she 
always  ended  her  reflections  by  magnanimously  yielding 
him  to  Marta. 

"  Anyone  would  marry  me,"  she  thought,  "  because  I 
have  money.  I  can  choose  almost  anyone  I  like.  If  I 
liked,  I  could  even  take  this  young  man,"  and  she  rested 
her  glance,  not  without  satisfaction,  on  Vitkevitch's 
youthful,  impudent,  yet  handsome  face — a  boy  who 
spoke  little,  ate  a  great  deal  and  looked  continuously  at 
Vershina,  smiling  insolently. 

Marta  brought  the  bilberries  and  apples  in  an  earthen- 
ware cup  and  began  to  relate  how  she  had  dreamed  the 
night  before  that  she  had  gone  to  a  wedding  as  a  brides- 
maid, where  she  ate  pine-apples  and  pancakes  with  mead  ; 
on  one  pancake  she  had  found  a  hundred-rouble  note  and 
she  cried  when  they  took  it  from  her,  and  woke  up  in 
tears. 

"  You  should  have  hidden  it  on  the  quiet  so  that  no 
one  could  see  it,"  said  Peredonov  rather  gruffly.  "  If 
you  can't  even  keep  money  in  a  dream,  what  sort  of  a 
housewife  will  you  make  ?  " 

"  There's  no  reason  to  feel  sorry  for  this  money,"  said 
Vershina.    "  There  arc  many  things  seen  in  dreams  !  ' 

"  I  feel  as  if  I'd  really  lost  the  money,"  said  Marta 
ingenuously.     "  A  whole  hundred  roubles  !  " 

Tears  appeared  in  her  eyes,  and  she  forced  a  laugh  in 
order  not  to  cry.  Mourin  anxiously  put  his  hands  into 
his  pocket  and  exclaimed  : 

"  My  dear  Marta  Stanislavovna,  don't  feel  so  put  out 
about  it,  we  can  soon  mend  the  matter." 

He  took  a  hundred-rouble  note  from  his  wallet,  put  it 
before  Marta  on  the  table,  and  slapped  his  hand  into  her 
palm,  shouting  : 

"  Permit  me  !    No  one  will  take  this  away  !  ' 

212 


Marta  was  about  to  rejoice  but  suddenly  flushed 
violently  and  said  in  confusion  : 

"  Oh,  Vladimir  Ivanovitch,  I  didn't  mean  that !  I 
can't  take  it.    Really  you  are  ..." 

"  Now,  don't  offend  me  by  refusing  it,"  said  Mourin 
with  a  laugh,  not  taking  up  the  money.  ''  Let's  say  that 
your  dream  has  become  realised." 

"  No,  but  how  can  I  ?  I  feel  ashamed.  I  wouldn't 
take  it  for  anything."  Marta  resisted,  looking  with 
desirous  eyes  upon  the  hundred-rouble  note. 

"  Why  do  you  protest  when  it's  given  to  you  ?  "  said 
Vitkevitch.  "  It's  good  luck  falling  right  into  your 
hands,"  he  continued  with  an  envious  sigh. 

Mourin  stood  in  front  of  Marta  and  said  in  a  persuasive 
voice  : 

"  My  dear  Marta  Stanislavovna,  believe  me,  I  give  it 
with  all  my  heart — please  take  it  !  And  if  you  don't  want 
to  take  it  for  nothing,  then  take  it  for  looking  after 
Vaniushka.  As  to  my  agreement  with  Natalya  Afanas- 
yevna,  let  that  stand.  But  this  is  for  you — for  looking 
after  Vanya." 

"  But  how  can  I,  it's  too  much,"  said  Marta  irreso- 
lutely. 

"  It's  for  the  first  half-year,"  and  he  bowed  very  low 
to  Marta.  "  Don't  offend  me  by  refusing  it.  Take  it  and 
be  a  sister  to  Vaniushka." 

"  Well,  Marta,  you'd  better  take  it,"  said  Vershina. 
"  And  thank  Vladimir  Ivanitch." 

Marta,  flushing  with  shame  and  pleasure,  took  the 
money. 

Mourin  began  to  thank  her  ardently. 
"  You'd  better  marry  at  once — it  would  be  cheaper," 
said  Peredonov  gruffly.    "  How  generous  he's  got  all  of  a 
sudden  !  " 

Vitkevitch  roared  with  laughter,  which  the  others 
pretended  they  had  not  heard.  Vershina  began  to  tell 
a  dream  of  her  own,  but  Peredonov  interrupted  her  before 

213 


she  had  finished  by  saying  good-bye.  Mourin  invited 
him  to  his  house  for  the  evening. 

"  I  must  go  to  Vespers,"  said  Peredonov. 

"  Ardalyon  Borisitch  has  suddenly  become  very 
zealous  in  church-going,"  said  Vershina  with  a  quick, 
dry  laugh. 

"  I  always  go,"  he  answered.  "  I  believe  in  God — 
unlike  the  others.  Perhaps  I  am  the  only  one  of  that 
kind  in  the  gymnasia.  That's  why  I'm  persecuted.  The 
Head-Master  is  an  atheist." 

"  When  you  are  free,  let  me  know,"  said  Mourin. 

Peredonov  said,  twisting  his  cap  irritatedly  in  his 
hands : 

"  I  have  no  time  to  go  visiting." 

But  suddenly  he  recalled  that  Mourin  was  very  hos- 
pitable with  food  and  drink,  so  he  said  : 

"  Well,  I  can  come  to  you  on  Monday." 

Mourin  showed  great  pleasure  at  this,  and  was  about 
to  ask  Vershina  and  Marta  also,  but  Peredonov  said  : 

"  I  don't  want  any  ladies.  We  might  get  a  little  tipsy 
and  blurt  out  something  which  would  be  awkward  in 
their  presence." 

When  Peredonov  left,  Vershina  said  sneeringly  : 

"  Ardalyon  Borisitch  is  acting  curiously.  He  would 
very  much  like  to  be  an  inspector,  and  it  looks  to  me 
as  if  Varvara  were  leading  him  by  the  nose.  So  he's  up 
to  all  sorts  of  tricks." 

Vladya — who  had  hidden  himself  while  Peredonov  was 
there — came  out  and  said  with  a  malicious  smile  : 

"  The  locksmith's  sons  have  found  out  from  someone 
that  it  was  Peredonov  who  told  about  them." 

"  They'll  break  his  windows,"  exclaimed  Vitkevitch 
laughing  gleefully. 

Everything  in  the  street  seemed  hostile  and  ominous 
to  Peredonov.  A  ram  stood  at  the  cross-roads  and 
looked  stupidly  at  him.     This  ram  so  closely  resembled 

214 


Volodin  that  Peredonov  felt  frightened.  He  thought 
that  possibly  Volodin  had  turned  into  a  ram  to  spy  upon 
him. 

"  How  do  we  know  ?  "  he  thought.  "  Perhaps  it  is 
possible  ;  science  has  not  discovered  everything  and  it's 
possible  someone  does  know  something.  Now  there  are 
the  French — a  learned  people,  and  yet  magicians  and 
mages  have  begun  to  spread  there."  And  a  fear  took 
possession  of  him.  "  This  ram  might  kick  me,"  he 
thought. 

The  ram  began  to  bleat,  and  its  bleat  resembled 
Volodin's  laughter.  It  was  sharp,  piercing  and  un- 
pleasant. 

Then  he  met  the  Officer  of  the  gendarmerie.  Peredo- 
nov went  up  to  him  and  said  in  a  whisper  : 

'  You'd  better  watch  Adamenko.  She  corresponds 
with  Socialists.    She's  one  of  them." 

Roubovsky  looked  at  him  in  silent  astonishment. 
Peredonov  walked  on  further  and  thought  dejectedly  : 

'  Why  do  I  always  keep  coming  across  him  ?  He  must 
be  watching  me,  and  he  has  put  policemen  everywhere." 

The  dirty  streets,  the  gloomy  sky,  the  pitiful  little 
houses,  the  ragged,  withered-looking  children — all  these 
breathed  depression,  neglect  and  a  hopeless  sadness. 

'  It's  a  foul  town,"  thought  Peredonov.  "  The  people 
here  are  disgusting  and  malignant ;  the  sooner  I  get  to 
another  town  the  better,  where  the  instructors  would 
bow  down  to  one  and  the  schoolboys  will  be  afraid  and 
whisper  in  fear  :  '  The  inspector  is  coming.'  Yes  !  The 
higher  officials  always  live  differently  in  the  world." 

"  Inspector  of  the  second  District  of  the  Rouban  Govern- 
ment," he  mumbled  under  his  nose.  "  The  Right  Honour- 
able the  State  Councillor,  Peredonov — that's  the  way  ! 
Do  you  know  who  I  am  ?  His  Excellency,  Head-Master 
of  the  National  Schools  of  the  Rouban  Government,  the 
Actual  State  Councillor  Peredonov.  Hats  off !  Hand  in 
your  resignation  !    Get  out  !    I'll  manage  you  !  " 

215 


Pcrcdonov's  countenance  became  arrogant.  In  his 
poor  imagination  he  had  already  received  his  share  of 
power. 

When  Percdonov  returned  home,  while  he  was  taking 
off  his  overcoat,  he  heard  shrill  sounds  from  the  dining- 
room — it  was  Volodin  laughing.    Peredonov's  spirits  fell. 

"  He's  managed  to  get  here  already,"  he  thought. 
"  Perhaps  he's  now  conspiring  with  Varvara  against  me. 
That's  why  he's  laughing  ;  he's  glad  because  Varvara 
agrees  with  him." 

He  walked  angrily  and  dejectedly  into  the  dining- 
room.  The  table  was  already  set  for  dinner.  Varvara 
met  Peredonov  with  an  anxious  face. 

"  Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  she  exclaimed,  "  think  what's 
happened  !    The  cat's  run  away." 

"  Well,"  exclaimed  Peredonov  with  an  expression  of 
fear  in  his  face,  "  why  did  you  let  it  go  ?  " 

"  You  didn't  expect  me  to  sew  his  tail  to  my  petticoat, 
did  you  ?  "  asked  Varvara  in  irritation. 

Volodin  sniggered.  Peredonov  thought  it  had  perhaps 
gone  to  the  Officer  of  the  gendarmerie  to  purr  out  all  it 
knew  about  Peredonov  and  about  where  and  why  he 
went  out  at  night — she  would  reveal  everything  and  would 
even  mew  a  little  more  than  had  happened.  More 
troubles  !  Peredonov  sat  down  on  a  chair  at  the  table, 
bent  his  head,  twirled  the  end  of  the  tablecloth  in  his 
fingers  and  became  lost  in  gloomy  reflections. 

"  Cats  always  run  back  to  their  old  home,"  said  Volodin, 
"  because  cats  get  used  to  a  place  and  not  to  their  master. 
A  cat  should  be  swung  round  several  times  and  then 
taken  to  her  new  home.  She  mustn't  be  shown  the  way 
or  otherwise  she'll  go  back." 

Peredonov  listened  and  felt  consoled. 

"  So  you  think  he's  gone  back  to  the  old  house,  Pav- 
loushka  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Undoubtedly,  Ardasha,"  replied  Volodin. 

216 


Peredonov  rose  and  shouted  : 

"  Well,  we'll  have  a  drink,  Pavloushka  !  " 

Volodin  sniggered. 

"  That's  a  possibility,  Ardasha,"  he  said.  "  It's  always 
possible  to  take  a  drink." 

"  We  must  get  that  cat  back,"  decided  Peredonov. 

"  A  treasure,"  replied  Varvara  sarcastically.  "  I'll 
send  Klavdiushka  for  it  after  dinner." 

They  sat  down  to  dinner.  Volodin  was  in  a  cheerful 
mood  and  chattered  and  laughed  a  great  deal.  His 
laughter  sounded  to  Peredonov  like  the  bleating  of  the 
ram  he  had  met  in  the  street. 

"  Why    has    he    got    evil    intentions    against    me  ?  ' 
thought  Peredonov.    "  WThat  does  he  want  ?  ' 

And  Peredonov  thought  that  he  would  get  Volodin  on 
his  side. 

"  Listen,  Pavloushka,"  he  said,  "  if  you'll  stop  trying 
to  injure  me,  then  I'll  buy  you  a  pound  of  the  best  sugar- 
candy  every  week — you  can  suck  it  to  my  good  health." 

Volodin  laughed,  but  immediately  afterwards  looked 
hurt  and  said  : 

"  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  I  have  no  idea  of  injuring  you, 
and  I  don't  want  your  sugar-candy  because  I  don't 
like  it." 

Peredonov  became  depressed.  Varvara  said  sneer- 
ingly  : 

"  You've  made  a  big  enough  fool  of  yourself,  Ardalyon 
Borisitch.    How  can  he  do  you  any  injury  ?  " 

"  Any  fool  can  do  you  harm,"  said  Peredonov  de- 
jectedly. 

Volodin  thrust  out  an  offended  lip,  shook  his  head 
and  said  : 

"  If  you  have  such  an  idea  about  me,  Ardalyon  Boris- 
itch, then  I  can  only  say  one  thing  :  I  thank  you  most 
humbly.  If  you  think  that  way  about  me,  what  have  I 
to  say  ?  What  shall  I  understand  by  this,  in  what 
sense  ?  " 

217 


"  Take  a  drink,  Pavloushka,  and  pour  me  one  too," 
said  Percdonov. 

"  Don't  pay  any  attention  to  him,  Pavel  Vassilyevitch," 
said  Varvara  consolingly.  "  He's  only  talking,  his  heart 
doesn't  know  what  his  tongue  blabs." 

Volodin  said  nothing,  and  preserving  his  injured  look 
began  to  pour  the  vodka  from  the  decanter  into  the 
glasses.    Varvara  said  sarcastically  : 

"  How  is  it,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  that  you're  not  afraid 
to  drink  vodka  when  he  pours  it  out  ?  Perhaps  he's 
exorcising  it — don't  you  see  his  lips  moving  ?  " 

Peredonov's  face  bore  an  expression  of  terror.  He 
caught  the  glass  which  Volodin  had  filled  and  flung  the 
vodka  on  to  the  floor,  shouting  : 

"  Chure  me  !  Chure — churc — chure  !*  A  spell  against 
the  spell-weaver — may  the  evil  tongue  die  of  thirst,  may 
the  black  eye  burst.  To  him  Karachoun  [death],  to  me 
chure-perechurc  !  " 

Then  he  turned  to  Volodin  with  a  malignant  face, 
snapped  his  fingers  and  said  : 

That's   for   you.      You're    cunning,    but    I'm    more 


jLiiai 

55 


cunning 


Varvara  laughed  uproariously. 

Volodin  bleating  in  an  offended,  trembling  voice  said  : 

"  It's  you,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  who  know  and  pro- 
nounce all  sorts  of  magic  words,  but  I  never  occupied 
myself  with  black  magic.  I  hadn't  any  idea  of  bedevilling 
your  vodka  or  anything  else,  but  it's  possible  that  it's 
you  who've  bewitched  my  brides  from  me." 

"  What  an  idea  !  "  said  Percdonov  angrily.  "  I  don't 
want  your  brides.    I  can  get  them  by  cleaner  means." 

"  You've  cast  a  spell  to  burst  my  eyes,"  continued 
Volodin,  "  but  mind  your  spectacles  don't  burst  sooner." 

Percdonov  caught  his  glasses  in  fear. 

"  What  nonsense  !  '  he  growled.  "  You  let  your 
tongue  run  away  with  you." 

*  See  note  to  p.  48. 
218 


Varvara  looked  warningly  at  Volodin  and  said  crossly  : 

"  Don't  be  spiteful,  Pavel  Vassilyevitch,  cat  your  soup, 
or  else  it'll  get  cold.    Eat,  you  spiteful  thing  !  " 

She  thought  that  Ardalyon  Borisitch  had  exorcised 
himself  in  time.  Volodin  began  to  eat  his  soup.  They 
were  all  silent  for  a  while,  and  presently  Volodin  said  in 
a  hurt  voice  : 

"  No  wonder  I  dreamed  last  night  that  I  was  being 
smeared  with  honey.  Did  you  smear  me,  Ardalyon 
Borisitch  ?  " 

"  That's  not  the  way  you  ought  to  be  smeared,"  said 
Varvara  still  crossly. 

"  Why  should  I  be  ?  Be  good  enough  to  tell  me.  I 
don't  see  why  I  should  be,"  said  Volodin. 

"  Well,  because  you've  got  a  nasty  tongue,"  explained 
Varvara.  "  You  oughtn't  to  babble  everything  that 
comes  into  your  mind  immediately." 


219 


CHAPTER  XX 

In  the  evening  Peredonov  went  to  the  Club — he  had  been 
invited  to  play  cards.  Goudayevsky,  the  notary,  was  also 
there.  Peredonov  was  frightened  when  he  saw  him,  but 
Goudayevsky  conducted  himself  quietly  and  Peredonov 
felt  reassured. 

They  played  a  long  time  and  drank  a  good  deal.  Late 
at  night  in  the  refreshment  room  Goudayevsky  ran  up  to 
Peredonov  and  without  any  explanation  hit  him  several 
times  in  the  face,  broke  his  glasses  and  quickly  left  the 
Club.  Peredonov  showed  no  resistance,  pretended  he 
was  drunk,  then  fell  to  the  floor,  and  began  to  grunt. 
They  shook  him  and  carried  him  home. 

The  next  day  the  whole  town  was  talking  about  this 
scuffle. 

That  same  evening  Varvara  found  an  opportunity  to 
steal  the  first  forged  letter  from  Peredonov.  Grushina 
had  insisted  on  this  so  that  no  discrepancies  might  be 
found  by  comparing  the  two  forgeries.  Peredonov 
carried  this  letter  about  with  him,  but  on  this  evening 
he  happened  to  leave  it  at  home  :  while  changing  into  his 
dress  clothes,  he  had  taken  the  letter  from  his  pocket, 
put  it  under  a  text-book  on  the  chest  of  drawers  and 
promptly  forgotten  it.  Varvara  burnt  it  over  a  candle 
at  Grushina's. 

When  Peredonov  returned  home  late  that  night  and 
Varvara  saw  his  broken  spectacles,  he  told  her  that  they 
had  burst  of  themselves.  She  believed  him  and  imagined 
that  it  was  all  the  fault  of  Volodin's  evil  tongue.  Pere- 
donov also  persuaded  himself  that  it  was  due  to  Volodin. 
The  next  day,  however,  Grushina  told  Varvara  the 
details  of  the  scuffle  at  the  Club. 

220 


In  the  morning,  when  dressing,  Peredonov  suddenly 
remembered  the  letter,  looked  for  it  unavailingly,  and 
felt  terrified.    He  shouted  in  a  savage  voice  : 

"  Varvara  !    Where's  that  letter  ?  " 

Varvara  was  disconcerted. 

"  What  letter  ?  "  she  asked,  looking  at  Peredonov  with 
frightened  eyes. 

"  The  Princess's  !  "  shouted  Peredonov. 

Varvara  somehow  collected  herself. 

She  said  with  an  impudent  smile  : 

"  How  should  I  know  where  it  is  ?  You  must  have 
thrown  it  among  the  waste  paper  and  Klavdiushka  has 
probably  burnt  it.  You'd  better  look  in  your  pockets 
for  it,  if  it's  still  to  be  found." 

Peredonov  went  to  the  gymnasia  in  a  gloomy  state  of 
mind.  Yesterday's  unpleasantness  came  into  his  mind. 
He  thought  of  Kramarenko  :  how  did  this  impudent  boy 
dare  to  call  him  a  scoundrel  ?  That. meant  that  he  was 
not  afraid  of  Peredonov.  Perhaps  the  boy  knew  some- 
thing about  him  and  would  inform  against  him. 

In  class  Kramarenko  stared  at  Peredonov  and  smiled, 
which  terrified  Peredonov  even  more.  After  the  third 
class,  Peredonov  was  again  called  to  see  the  Head- 
Master.  He  went,  vaguely  apprehending  something 
unpleasant. 

Rumours  of  Peredonov's  doings  reached  Khripatch 
from  all  sides.  That  morning  he  had  been  told  about  last 
night's  occurrence  at  the  Club.  Yesterday,  also,  after 
lessons,  Volodya  Boultyakov  had  come  to  see  him — the 
boy  who  had  been  punished  by  his  landlady  at  Peredonov's 
request.  To  prevent  a  repetition  of  this  visit  with  similar 
consequences  the  boy  complained  to  the  Head-Master. 

In  a  dry,  sharp  voice  Khripatch  repeated  to  Peredonov 
the  reports  that  had  reached  him — from  reliable  sources, 
he  added — of  how  Peredonov  had  been  going  to  his 
students'  homes  giving  their  parents  and  guardians  false 
information  about  the  children's  conduct  and  progress, 

221 


demanding  that  the  boys  should  be  whipped,  in  conse- 
quence of  which  certain  disagreeable  incidents  had 
occurred  among  the  parents,  as,  for  instance,  last  night's 
affair  at  the  Club  with  the  notary  Goudayevsky. 

Peredonov  listened  fearfully  and  yet  irritatcdly. 
Khripatch  was  silent. 

"  What  of  that  ?  "  said  Peredonov  in  a  surly  voice. 
"  It  was  he  who  struck  me.  Is  that  the  way  to  behave  ? 
He  had  no  right  to  fly  into  my  face.  He  doesn't  go  to 
church.  He  believes  in  a  monkey  and  he's  corrupting 
his  son  into  the  same  sect.  He  ought  to  be  reported — 
he's  a  Socialist." 

Khripatch  listened  attentively  to  Peredonov  and  said 
insinuatingly  : 

"  All  this  is  not  our  affair,  and  I  don't  understand  at 
all  what  you  mean  by  the  original  expression  '  he  believes 
in  a  monkey.'  In  my  opinion  there's  no  need  to  enrich 
the  history  of  religion  with  newly-devised  cults.  As  for 
the  affront  you  received,  you  ought  to  have  brought  him 
before  a  court  of  magistrates.  But  the  very  best  thing 
for  you  to  do,  is  to  leave  the  school.  This  would  be  the 
best  way  out  for  you  personally  and  for  the  gymnasia." 

"  I  shall  be  an  inspector,"  said  Peredonov  angrily. 

"  But  until  then,"  continued  Khripatch,  "  you  should 
restrain  yourself  from  these  extraordinary  visits.  You 
will  agree  that  such  conduct  is  unbecoming  to  a  school- 
master, and  it  loses  the  master  his  dignity  in  the  eyes  of 
his  pupils.  To  go  about  from  house  to  house,  whipping 
young  boys — this  you  must  agree  ..." 

Khripatch  did  not  finish,  and  merely  shrugged  his 
shoulders. 

"  But  after  all,"  said  Peredonov,  "  I  did  it  for  their 
good." 

"  Please  don't  let  us  argue  about  it,"  Khripatch 
interrupted  him  sharply.  "  I  request  you  most  emphati- 
cally not  to  let  this  happen  again." 

Peredonov  looked  angrily  at  the  Head-Master. 

009 

.■»  — » 


That  evening  they  decided  to  have  a  house-warming. 
They  invited  all  their  acquaintances.  Peredonov  walked 
about  the  rooms  to  see  that  everything  was  in  order  and 
that  there  was  nothing  which  could  be  the  cause  of  his 
being  informed  against.    He  thought  : 

"  Well,  everything  seems  all  right — there  are  no  for- 
bidden books  visible,  the  ikon-lamps  are  alight,  the 
Royal  portraits  are  hanging  in  the  place  of  honour  on 
the  wall." 

Suddenly  Mickiewicz  winked  at  him  from  the  wall. 

"  He  might  get  me  into  trouble,"  thought  Peredonov 
in  fear.  "I'd  better  take  the  portrait  and  put  it  in  the 
privy  and  bring  Pushkin  back  here." 

"  After  all  Pushkin  was  a  courtier,"  he  thought,  as  he 
hung  the  portrait  on  the  dining-room  wall. 

Then  he  remembered  that  they  would  play  cards  in 
the  evening,  so  he  decided  to  examine  the  cards.  He 
took  the  opened  pack  of  cards  which  had  only  been  used 
once  and  looked  through  them  as  if  he  were  trying  to 
find  something.  The  faces  of  the  court  cards  did  not 
please  him — they  had  such  big  eyes. 

Latterly  when  he  was  playing  it  seemed  to  him  that 
the  cards  smiled  like  Varvara.  Even  the  ordinary  six 
of  spades  had  an  insolent  and  unfriendly  look. 

Peredonov  gathered  together  all  the  cards  he  had  and 
put  out  the  eyes  of  all  the  kings,  queens  and  knaves,  so 
that  they  should  not  stare  at  him.  He  did  this  first  with 
the  cards  that  had  already  been  used,  and  afterwards  he 
unsealed  the  new  packs.  He  did  this  with  furtive  glances 
around  him,  as  if  he  were  afraid  that  he  would  be  detected. 
Luckily  for  him,  Varvara  was  busy  in  the  kitchen  and 
did  not  come  into  the  rooms, — how  could  she  leave  such 
an  abundance  of  eatables  :  Klavdia  might  help  herself. 
When  she  wanted  anything  from  one  of  the  rooms,  she 
sent  Klavdia.  Each  time  Klavdia  came  into  the  room, 
Peredonov  trembled,  hid  the  scissors  in  his  pocket  and 
pretended  that  he  was  dealing  the  cards  for  patience. 

223 


While  Percdonov  was  in  this  way  depriving  the  kings 
and  queens  of  any  possibility  of  their  irritating  him  with 
their  stares,  an  unpleasantness  was  approaching  him 
from  another  side.  The  hat,  which  Peredonov  had  thrown 
on  the  stove  of  his  former  house  in  order  to  keep  from 
wearing  it,  had  been  found  by  Ershova.  She  suspected 
that  the  hat  had  not  been  left  there  by  a  simple  accident  : 
her  former  tenants  detested  her  and  it  was  likely,  Ershova 
thought,  that  they  had  put  a  spell  in  the  hat  which  would 
prevent  others  from  taking  the  house.  In  fear  and  vexa- 
tion she  took  the  hat  to  a  sorceress.  The  latter  looked  at 
the  hat,  whispered  something  over  it  mysteriously  and 
severely,  spat  to  each  of  the  four  quarters  and  said  to 
Ershova  : 

"  They've  done  you  some  harm  and  you  ought  to  pay 
them  back.  A  strong  sorcerer  has  made  the  spell,  but 
I  am  more  cunning  and  I  will  outdo  him  and  I'll  get  the 
better  of  him." 

And  for  a  long  time  she  recited  her  spells  over  the  hat, 
and  having  received  generous  gifts  from  Ershova  she 
told  her  that  she  was  to  give  the  hat  to  a  young  man 
with  red  hair,  and  that  he  should  take  it  to  Peredonov's 
house,  give  it  to  the  first  person  he  met  there  and  then 
run  away  without  turning  round. 

As  it  happened,  the  first  red-haired  boy  whom  Ershova 
met  was  one  of  the  locksmith's  sons,  who  had  a  grudge 
against  Peredonov  for  revealing  their  nocturnal  prank. 
He  took  with  great  satisfaction  the  fivc-kopeck  piece 
Ershova  gave  him,  and  on  the  way  he  spat  zealously  into 
the  hat  on  his  own  account.  He  met  Varvara  herself 
in  the  dark  hall  of  Peredonov's  house.  He  stuck  the 
hat  into  her  hand  and  ran  away  so  quickly  that  Varvara 
had  not  time  to  recognise  him. 

Peredonov  had  barely  time  enough  to  blind  the  last 
knave,  when  Varvara  entered  his  room,  astonished  and 
rather  frightened,  and  said  in  a  trembling  voice  : 

"  Ardalyon  Borisitch  !    Look  at  this  ! 

224 


?5 


Peredonov  looked  and  almost  fell  over  in  his  terror. 
The  very  hat  which  he  had  tried  to  get  rid  of  was  now  in 
Varvara's  hands,  all  crumpled  up,  dusty,  with  scarcely 
a  trace  of  its  former  magnificence.  He  asked,  panting 
with  fear  : 

"  Where  did  it  come  from  ?  " 

Varvara  recounted  in  a  frightened  voice  how  she  had 
received  the  hat  from  a  nimble  boy  who  seemed  to  rise 
from  the  ground  in  front  of  her  and  then  vanish  into  it 
again.    She  said  : 

"  It  must  be  Ershikha.  She  has  thrown  a  spell  on  to 
your  hat.    There  can't  be  any  doubt  about  it  " 

Peredonov  mumbled  something  incoherent,  and  his 
teeth  chattered  with  fear.  Gloomy  fears  and  forebodings 
tormented  him.  He  walked  up  and  down  frowning  and 
the  grey  nedotikomka  ran  under  the  chairs  and  snig- 
gered. 

The  guests  arrived  early.  They  brought  many  tarts, 
apples  and  pears  to  the  house  warming.  Varvara 
accepted  everything  gladly,  saying,  merely  from  polite- 
ness : 

"  Why  did  you  take  the  trouble  to  bring  such  lovely 
things  ?  " 

But  if  she  thought  that  someone  had  brought  some- 
thing poor  or  cheap  she  felt  angry.  She  was  also  dis- 
pleased when  two  guests  brought  the  same  thing. 

They  lost  no  time,  but  sat  down  at  once  to  play  cards. 
They  played  stoukolka. 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  exclaimed  Grushina  suddenly. 
"  I've  got  a  blind  king  !  " 

"  And  my  queen  has  no  eyes,"  said  Prepolovenskaya, 
examining  her  cards.    "  And  the  knave  too  !  " 

The  guests  laughingly  examined  their  cards.  Prepolo- 
vensky  said  : 

"  I  wondered  why  these  cards  kept  catching  each 
other.  That's  the  reason.  I  kept  feeling.  Why  is  it, 
I  thought,  that  they  have  such  rough  backs  ?     Now  I 

Q— LITTLE  DEMON  225 


see  it  comes  from  these  little  holes.  That's  it — it's  the 
backs  that  are  rough  !  " 

Everyone  laughed  except  Peredonov,  who  looked 
morose.    Varvara  said  with  a  smile  : 

"  You  know  my  Ardalyon  Borisitch  has  strange  whims. 
He's  always  thinking  of  different  tricks." 

"  Why  did  you  do  it  ?  "  asked  Routilov  with  a  loud 
laugh. 

"  Why  should  they  have  eyes  ?  "  said  Peredonov 
morosely.     "  They  don't  need  to  see  !  " 

Everyone  roared  with  laughter,  but  Peredonov  re- 
mained morose  and  silent.  It  seemed  to  him  that 
the  blinded  figures  were  making  wry  faces,  mocking 
at  him  and  winking  with  the  gaping  little  holes  in  their 
eyes. 

"  Perhaps,"  thought  Peredonov,  "  they've  managed  to 
learn  to  see  with  their  noses." 

He  had  bad  luck,  as  he  nearly  always  did,  and  it 
seemed  to  him  that  the  faces  of  the  kings,  queens  and 
knaves  expressed  spite  and  mockery ;  the  queen  of 
spades  even  gritted  her  teeth,  evidently  enraged  by  his 
blinding  her.  Finally,  after  a  heavy  loss,  Peredonov 
seized  the  pack  of  cards  and  in  his  rage  began  to  tear 
them  to  shreds.  The  guests  roared  with  laughter. 
Varvara  said  with  a  smile  : 

'  He's  always  like  that — whenever  he  takes  a  drop  he 
always  does  strange  things." 

"  You  mean  when  he's  drunk,"  said  Prcpolovenskaya 
spitefully.  "  Do  you  hear,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  what 
your  cousin  thinks  of  you  ?  " 

Varvara  flushed  and  said  angrily  : 

"  Why  do  you  twist  my  words  ?  " 

Prcpolovenskaya  smiled  and  was  silent. 

A  new  pack  of  cards  was  produced  in  place  of  the  torn 
pack,  and  the  game  was  continued. 

Suddenly  a  crash  was  heard — a  pane  of  glass  was 
broken  and  a  stone  fell  on  the  floor  near  Peredonov. 

226 


Under  the  window  could  be  heard  a  whispering,  laughter 
and  then  quickly  receding  footsteps.  Everyone  jumped 
from  his  place  in  alarm  ;  the  women  screamed — as  they 
always  do.  They  picked  up  the  stone  and  examined  it 
fearfully  ;  no  one  ventured  near  the  window — they  first 
sent  Klavdia  into  the  street,  and  only  when  she  came 
back,  saying  that  the  street  was  deserted,  did  they 
examine  the  broken  window. 

Volodin  suggested  that  the  stone  had  been  thrown  by 
some  schoolboys.  His  guess  seemed  a  likely  one,  and 
everyone  looked  significantly  at  Peredonov.  Peredonov 
frowned  and  mumbled  something  incoherently.  The 
guests  began  to  talk  of  the  boys  of  the  place,  remarking 
how  impudent  and  wild  they  were. 

It  was,  of  course,  not  the  schoolboys,  but  the  lock- 
smith's sons. 

"  The  Head-Master  put  the  boys  up  to  it,"  announced 
Peredonov  suddenly,  "  he's  always  trying  to  pick  a 
quarrel  with  me.    He's  thought  of  this  to  annoy  me." 

"  Well,  that  is  a  fine  idea,"  shouted  Routilov  with  a 
loud  laugh. 

Everyone  laughed. 

Grushina  alone  said  : 

"  Well,  what  do  you  expect  ?  He's  such  a  poisonous 
man.  Anything  might  be  expected  of  him.  He  doesn't 
do  it  himself,  but  puts  his  sons  up  to  it." 

"  It  doesn't  make  any  difference  that  they're  aristog 
crats,"  bleated  Volodin  in  an  injured  tone.  "  Anythin- 
might  be  expected  from  aristocrats." 

Many  of  the  guests  then  began  to  think  that  perhaps 
it  was  time  they  stopped  laughing.  .  j 

"  You  seem  to  have  bad  luck  with  glass,  Ardalyon 
Borisitch,"  said  Routilov.  "  First  your  spectacles  were 
broken  and  now  they've  smashed  your  window." 

This  evoked  a  new  outburst  of  laughter. 
P^"  Broken  windows  mean  long  life,"  said  Prepoloven- 
skaya  with  a  restrained  smile. 

227 


When  Peredonov  and  Varvara  were  going  to  bed  that 
night,  it  seemed  to  him  that  Varvara  had  something  evil 
in  her  mind  ;  he  took  from  her  the  knives  and  forks  and 
hid  them  under  the  mattress.  He  mumbled  in  a  slow, 
dull  way  : 

"  I  know  you  :  as  soon  as  you  marry  me  you'll  inform 
against  me  in  order  to  get  rid  of  me.  You'll  get  a  pension 
and  I'll  be  in  Petropavlosk  jail  working  on  the  tread- 
mill." 

That  night  Peredonov's  mind  wandered.  Dim,  terrible 
figures  walked  about  noiselessly,  kings  and  knaves, 
swinging  their  sceptres.  They  whispered  to  each  other, 
tried  to  hide  from  Peredonov,  and  stealthily  crept  towards 
him  under  the  pillow.  But  soon  they  grew  bolder  and 
began  to  walk  and  run  and  stir  around  Peredonov  every- 
where, upon  the  floor,  upon  the  bed,  upon  the  pillows. 
They  whispered,  they  mocked  at  Peredonov,  thrust  out 
their  tongues  at  him,  made  terrible  grimaces  before  him, 
stretching  out  their  mouths  into  deformed  shapes. 
Peredonov  saw  that  they  were  little  and  mischievous, 
that  they  would  not  kill  him,  but  were  only  deriding  him, 
and  foreboding  evil.  But  he  felt  a  terrible  fear — now  he 
muttered  exorcisms,  fragments  of  spells  he  had  heard  in 
his  childhood,  now  be  began  to  curse  them  and  to  drive 
them  from  him,  waving  his  arms  and  shouting  in  a  hoarse 
voice. 

Varvara  woke  and  called  out  irately  : 

"  What  are  you  making  such  a  row  about,  Ardalyon 
Borisitch  ?    You  won't  let  me  sleep." 

"  The  queen  of  spades  is  annoying  me.  She's  got  a 
quilted  capote  on,"  mumbled  Peredonov. 

Varvara  rose,  grumbling  and  cursing,  and  gave  Pere- 
donov some  medicine. 

In  the  local  district  newspaper  a  short  article  appeared 
recounting  how  a  certain  Madame  K.  whipped  school- 
boys who  lived  in  her  house — sons  of  the  best  local 

228 


gentry.  The  notary,  Goudayevsky,  carried  this  news 
over  the  whole  town  and  waxed  indignant. 

And  various  other  absurd  rumours  about  the  local 
gymnasia  went  through  the  town  :  they  talked  about  the 
girl  who  was  dressed  up  as  a  schoolboy,  later  the  name 
of  Pilnikov  came  gradually  to  be  mentioned  with  Liud- 
milla's.  Sasha's  companions  began  to  tease  him  about 
his  love  for  Liudmilla.  At  first  he  regarded  their  jests 
lightly,  but  later  he  would  sometimes  get  indignant  and 
defend  Liudmilla,  trying  to  convince  them  that  nothing 
of  the  sort  had  happened. 

This  made  him  ashamed  to  go  to  Liudmilla,  and  yet 
it  drew  him  more  strongly  to  her  :  confused,  burning 
feelings  of  shame  and  attraction  agitated  him  and  vaguely 
passionate  visions  filled  his  imagination. 


229 


CHAPTER  XXI 

On  Sunday  when  Peredonov  and  Varvara  were  lunching, 
someone  entered  the  hall.  Varvara  went  up  to  the  door 
stealthily,  as  was  her  habit,  and  looked  out.  With  the 
same  stcalthiness  she  returned  to  the  table  and  whispered  : 

"  The  postman.  We'd  better  give  him  a  vodka — he's 
brought  another  letter." 

Peredonov  silently  nodded, — he  didn't  grudge  anyone 
a  glass  of  vodka.    Varvara  shouted  : 

"  Postman  !    Come  in  here." 

The  postman  entered  the  room.  He  rummaged  in  his 
bag  and  pretended  to  be  searching  for  the  letter.  Varvara 
filled  a  large  vodka-glass  and  cut  off  a  piece  of  pie.  The 
postman  watched  her  greedily.  In  the  meantime  Pere- 
donov was  trying  to  think  whom  the  postman  resembled. 
At  last  he  recalled — he  was  the  same  red-pimpled  knave 
who  had  made  him  lose  so  heavily  at  cards. 

"  He'll  trick  me  again,"  thought  Peredonov  dejectedly, 
and  made  a  Koukish*  in  his  pocket. 

The  red-haired  knave  gave  the  letter  to  Varvara. 

"  It's  for  you,"  he  said  respectfully,  thanked  them  for 
the  vodka,  drank  it,  grunted  with  satisfaction,  picked 
up  the  piece  of  pie  and  walked  out. 

Varvara  turned  the  letter  and  without  opening  it  held 
it  out  to  Peredonov. 

"  There,  read  it — I  think  it's  from  the  Princess,"  she 
said  with  a  smile.  "  What's  the  good  of  her  writing  ? 
It  would  be  much  better  if  she  gave  you  the  job  instead." 

Peredonov's  hands  trembled.     He  tore  open  the  en- 

*  Koukish,  a  clenched  fist  with  the  thumb  thrust  between  the  first 
and  second  fingers.  This  gesture  is  a  great  insult  in  Russia.  To 
make  it  is  as  much  as  to  say,  "  A  fig  for  you  !  " 

230 


velope  and  quickly  read  the  letter.    Then  he  jumped  up 
from  his  place,  waved  the  letter  and  cried  out : 

"  Hurrah  !  Three  inspector's  jobs,  and  I  can  have 
which  one  I  want.  Hurrah,  Varvara,  we've  got  it  at 
last  !  " 

He  began  to  dance  and  twirl  round  the  room.     With 
his  immovably  red  face  and  dull  eyes  he  seemed  like  a 
monstrously    large    mechanical    dancing    doll.      Varvara 
smiled  and  looked  at  him  happily.    He  shouted  : 
"  Now  it's  decided,  Varvara — we'll  get  married." 
He  caught  Varvara  by  the  shoulders  and  began  to 
whirl  her  around  the  table,  stamping  with  his  feet. 
"  A  Russian  dance,  Varvara  !  "  he  shouted. 
Varvara  put  her  arms  akimbo  and  glided  off  into  a 
dance,    Peredonov   danced   before   her   in   the   Russian 
squat. 

Volodin  entered  and  bleated  joyously  : 
"  The  future  inspector  is  hopping  the  trepak  !  "* 
"  Dance,  Pavloushka  !  "  cried  Peredonov. 
Klavdia  looked  in  at  the  door.     Volodin  shouted  at 
her,  laughing  and  grimacing  : 

"  Dance,  Klavdiusha,  you  too  !  All  together  !  We'll 
make  merry  with  the  future  inspector." 

Klavdia  gave  a  hoot  and  glided  into  the  dance,  moving 
her  shoulders.  Volodin  adroitly  whirled  round  in  front 
of  her — now  he  squatted,  now  he  whirled  round,  now 
he  jumped  forward,  clapping  his  hands  together.  He  was 
especially  adroit  when  he  lifted  his  knee  and  clapped  his 
hands  underneath  the  knee.  The  floor  vibrated  under 
their  heels.  Klavdia  was  overjoyed  to  have  such  a  clever 
partner. 

When  they  got  tired  they  sat  down  at  the  table  and 
Klavdia  ran  off  into  the  kitchen  laughing  gaily.  They 
drank  vodka  and  they  drank  beer.  They  jingled  bottles 
and  glasses,  they  shouted,  laughed,  waved  their  arms, 
embraced  and  kissed  each  other.  Afterwards  Peredonov 
*  A  Russian  popular  dance. 
231 


and  Volodin  went  off  to  the  Summer-garden — Peredonov 
was  in  a  hurry  to  boast  about  the  letter. 

In  the  billiard-room  they  found  the  usual  company. 
Peredonov  showed  his  letter  to  his  friends.  It  created 
a  great  impression.  Everyone  examined  it  trustfully. 
Routilov  went  pale,  muttered  something  and  spat. 

"  The  postman  brought  it  when  I  was  there  !  "  ex- 
claimed Peredonov.  "  I  unsealed  the  letter  myself. 
That  means  that  there's  no  mistake." 

His  friends  looked  at  him  with  respect.  A  letter  from 
a  Princess  ! 

Peredonov  went  impetuously  from  the  Summer-garden 
to  Vershina's.  He  walked  quickly  and  evenly,  swinging 
his  arms  measuredly  and  mumbling  to  himself  ;  his  face 
had  no  apparent  expression  of  any  kind — it  was  motion- 
less like  that  of  a  wound-up  doll — and  a  sort  of  avid  fire 
gleamed  dully  in  his  eyes. 

The  day  turned  out  clear  and  warm.  Marta  was 
knitting  a  sock.  Her  thoughts  were  confused  and  devout. 
At  first  she  thought  about  sins,  but  later  she  turned  her 
thoughts  to  something  more  pleasant  and  began  to  reflect 
about  virtues.  Her  thoughts  became  over-clouded  with 
drowsiness  and  assumed  the  forms  of  definite  images,  and 
proportionately  at  their  comprehensibility  ceased  to  be 
expressible  in  words,  their  chimerical  contours  increased 
in  clearness.  The  virtues  stood  up  before  her  like  big 
pretty  dolls  in  white  dresses,  all  shining  and  fragrant. 
They  promised  her  rewards,  and  keys  jingled  in  their 
hands,  and  bridal  veils  fluttered  on  their  heads. 

One  among  them  was  curious  and  different  from  the 
others.  She  promised  nothing  but  looked  reproachfully, 
and  her  lips  moved  with  a  noiseless  threat ;  it  seemed 
that  if  she  spoke  a  word  one  would  feel  terrible.  Marta 
guessed  that  this  was  Conscience.  She  was  in  black,  this 
strange  painful  visitor,  with  black  eyes,  and  black  hair — 
and  she  suddenly  began  to  talk  about  something  very 

232 


quickly  and  glibly.  She  began  to  resemble  Vershina. 
Marta1  started,  answered  something  to  her  question, 
answered  almost  unconsciously  and  then  drowsiness 
again  overcame  her. 

Whether  it  was  Conscience,  or  whether  it  was  Vershina 
sitting  opposite  her,  talking  quickly  and  glibly  but 
incomprehensibly,  smoking  something  exotic,  this  person 
was  assertive,  quiet  and  determined  that  everything 
should  be  as  she  wanted  it.  Marta  tried  to  look  this 
tedious  visitor  straight  in  the  eyes  but  somehow  she 
couldn't — the  visitor  smiled  strangely,  grumbled,  and 
her  eyes  wandered  off  somewhere  and  rested  on  distant, 
unknown   objects,   which  Marta  found   fearful  to   look 

d  I  •      •      •     • 

Loud  talk  awakened  Marta.  Peredonov  stood  in  the 
summer-house  and  greeted  Vershina  in  a  loud  voice. 
Marta  looked  around  in  fear.  Her  heart  beat,  her  eyes 
were  still  half-shut,  and  her  thoughts  were  still  wandering, 
where  was  Conscience  ?  Or  had  she  not  been  there  at 
all  ?    And  ought  she  to  have  been  there  ? 

"  Ah,  you've  been  snoozing  there,"  said  Peredonov  to 
her.  "  You  were  snoring  in  all  sorts  of  ways.  Now 
you're  a  pine."* 

Marta  did  not  understand  his  pun,  but  smiled,  guessing 
from  the  smile  on  Vershina's  lips  that  something  had 
been  said  which  had  to  be  accepted  as  amusing. 

"  You  ought  to  be  called  Sofya,"  continued  Peredonov. 

"  Why  ?  "  asked  Marta. 

"  Because  you're  Sonyaf  and  not  Marta." 

Peredonov  sat  down  on  the  bench  beside  Marta  and 
said  : 

"  I  have  a  very  important  piece  of  news." 

"  What  sort  of  news  can  you  have  ?  "  said  Vershina. 
"  Share  it  with  us." 

*  "Sosna"  means  "  pine"  and  "so  sna"  "from  sleep."  Peredonov 
puns  on  it. 

t  Variation  on  the  pun.     "  Sonya"  is  another  form  of  "  Sofya." 

233 


And  Marta  immediately  envied  Vershina  because  she 
had  such  a  vast  number  of  words  to  express  the  simple 
question  :    "  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  Guess  !  "  said  Percdonov  in  a  morose,  solemn  voice. 

"  How  can  I  guess  what  sort  of  news  you  have  ?  ' 
replied  Vershina.    "  You  tell  us,  and  then  we  shall  know 
what  your  news  is." 

Peredonov  felt  unhappy  because  they  did  not  want  to 
try  and  guess  his  news.  He  sat  there  silently,  hunched 
up  awkwardly,  dull  and  heavy,  and  looked  motionlessly 
before  him.  Vershina  smoked  and  smiled  wryly,  showing 
her  dark  yellow  teeth. 

"  Why  should  I  guess  your  news  this  way  ?  "  she  said 
after  a  short  silence.  "  Let  me  find  it  out  in  the  cards. 
Marta,  bring  the  cards  here." 

Marta  rose  but  Peredonov  gruffly  stopped  her  : 

"  Sit  still,  I  don't  want  them.  Find  out  Avithout  them, 
but  don't  bother  me  with  the  cards.  But  now  you  can't 
do  it  at  my  expense.  I'll  show  you  a  trick  that'll  make 
you  open  your  mouths  wide." 

Peredonov  took  his  wallet  quickly  from  his  pocket  and 
showed  Vershina  a  letter  in  an  envelope,  without  letting 
it  go  from  his  hands. 

"  Do  you  see  ?  "  he  said.  "  Here's  the  envelope.  And 
here's  the  letter." 

He  took  out  the  letter  and  read  it  slowly  with  a  dull 
expression  of  gratified  spite  in  his  eyes.  Vershina  was 
dumbfounded.  To  the  very  last  she  had  not  believed  in 
the  Princess,  but  now  she  understood  that  the  affair  with 
Marta  was  conclusively  off.    She  smiled  wryly  and  said  : 

"  Well,  you're  in  luck." 

Marta  with  an  astonished  and  frightened  face,  smiled 
in  a  flustered  way. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  now  ?  "  said  Peredonov 
maliciously.  "  You  thought  I  was  a  fool,  but  I've  come 
out  best.  You  spoke  about  the  envelope.  Well,  here's 
the  envelope.    No,  there's  no  mistake  about  it." 

234 


He  hit  the  table  with  his  fist,  neither  violently  nor 
loudly — and  his  movement  and  the  sound  of  his  words 
remained  somehow  strangely  distant,  as  if  he  were 
foreign  and  indifferent  to  his  own  affairs. 

Vershina  and  Marta  exchanged  glances  in  a  perplexed 
way. 

"  Why  are  you  looking  at  each  other  ?  "  said  Peredonov 
crossly.  "  There's  nothing  for  you  to  look  at  each  other 
about :  everything's  settled  now  and  I  shall  marry 
Varvara.  There  were  a  lot  of  little  girls  trying  to  catch 
me  here." 

Vershina  sent  Marta  for  cigarettes  and  Marta  gladly 
ran  from  the  summer-house.  She  felt  herself  free  and 
light -spirited  as  she  went  over  the  little  sandy  paths 
strewn  with  the  bright -coloured  autumn  leaves.  Near 
the  house  she  met  Vladya  barefoot — and  she  felt  even 
gayer  and  more  cheerful. 

"  He's  going  to  marry  Varvara,  that's  decided,"  she 
said  happily  in  a  low  voice  as  she  drew  her  brother  into 
the  house. 

In  the  meantime  Peredonov,  without  waiting  for 
Marta,  abruptly  took  his  leave. 

"  I  have  no  time,"  he  said,  "  getting  married  is  not 
making  a  pair  of  lapti."* 

Vershina  did  not  detain  him  and  said  good-bye  to 
him  coldly.  She  was  intensely  vexed  :  until  now  she 
still  had  kept  the  frail  hope  that  she  would  marry  Marta 
to  Peredonov  and  keep  Mourin  for  herself.  And  now 
the  last  hope  had  vanished. 

Marta  caught  it  hot  that  day  !    That  made  her  cry. 

Peredonov  left  Vershina  and  thought  he  would  like  to 
smoke.  He  suddenly  saw  a  policeman — standing  in  the 
corner  of  the  street,  shelling  dry  sunflower  seeds. "f  Pere- 
donov felt  depressed. 

*  Laptis  rough  shoes  worn  by  the  peasants. 

t  Russians  eat  dried  sunflower  seeds  as  Americans  eat  pea-nuts. 

235 


"  Another  spy,"  he  thought,  "  they're  watching  so  as 
to  have  some  excuse  for  finding  fault  with  me." 

He  did  not  dare  to  light  the  cigarette  which  he  had 
taken  from  his  pocket,  but  walked  up  to  the  policeman 
and  asked  timidly  : 

"  Mr.  Policeman,  is  one  allowed  to  smoke  here  ?  " 

The  policeman  touched  his  cap  and  inquired  respect- 
fully:  ' 

"  Why  do  you  ask  me,  sir  ?  " 

"  A  cigarette,"  explained  Peredonov,  "  may  one  smoke 
a  cigarette  here  ?  " 

"  There's  been  no  law  about  it,"  replied  the  policeman 
evasively. 

"  There  hasn't  been  any  ?  "  repeated  Peredonov  in  a 
depressed  voice. 

"  No,  there  hasn't  been  any.  We  aren't  ordered  to 
stop  gentlemen  from  smoking,  and  if  such  a  rule  has 
been  passed  I  don't  know  about  it." 

"  If  there  hasn't  been  any,  then  I  won't  begin,"  said 
Peredonov  humbly,  "  I  am  a  law-abiding  person.  I  will 
even  throw  the  cigarette  away.  After  all,  I'm  a  State 
Councillor." 

Peredonov  crumpled  up  the  cigarette  and  threw  it  on 
the  ground,  and  already  began  to  fear  that  he  had  said 
something  inadvised,  and  walked  rapidly  home.  The 
policeman  looked  after  him  in  perplexity  and  at  last 
decided  that  the  gentleman  "  had  had  a  drop  too  much," 
and,  comforted  by  this,  recommenced  his  peaceful  shelling 
of  sunflower  seeds. 

"  The  street  is  standing  up  on  end,"  muttered  Pere- 
donov. The  hill  ran  up  a  not  very  steep  incline  and  then 
went  down  abruptly  on  the  other  side.  At  the  crest 
of  the  street  between  two  hovels  was  a  sharp  outline 
against  the  blue,  melancholy  evening  sky.  Poor  life 
seemed  to  have  shut  herself  in  within  these  quiet  narrow 
limits  and  suffered  keen  torments.  The  trees  thrust 
their  branches  over  the  fences,   they  peered  over  and 

236 


obstructed  the  way,  and  there  was  a  taunt  and  menace 
in  their  whispering.  A  ram  stood  at  the  cross-roads  and 
looked  dully  at  Peredonov.  Suddenly  the  sound  of 
bleating  laughter  came  from  round  a  corner  ;  Volodin 
appeared  and  went  to  greet  Peredonov.  Peredonov 
looked  at  him  gloomily  and  thought  of  the  ram  which 
had  been  there  a  moment  ago  and  had  now  disappeared. 

"  That,"  he  thought,  "  is  certainly  because  Volodin 
can  turn  himself  into  a  ram.  He  doesn't  resemble  a  ram 
for  nothing,  and  it's  difficult  to  tell  whether  he's  laughing 
or  bleating." 

These  thoughts  so  preoccupied  him  that  he  did  not 
hear  what  Volodin  was  saying  to  him. 

"  Why  are  you  kicking  me,  Pavloushka  ?  "  he  said 
dejectedly. 

Volodin  smiled  and  said  bleatingly  : 

"  I'm  not  kicking  you,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  I'm  shaking 
hands  with  you.  It's  possible  that  in  your  village  they 
kick  with  their  hands,  but  in  my  village  they  kick  with 
their  feet.  And  even  then  it  is  not  people  but,  if  I  may 
say  so,  ponies." 

"  You'll  butt  me  yet,"  growled  Peredonov. 

Volodin  was  offended  and  said  in  a  trembling  voice  : 

"  I  haven't  grown  any  horns  yet,  Ardalyon  Borisitch, 
but  it's  very  likely  you'll  grow  them  before  I  do." 

"  You've  got  a  long  tongue  that  babbles  nonsense," 
said  Peredonov  angrily. 

"  If  that's  your  idea  of  me,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  said 
Volodin  quickly,  "  then  I'll  be  silent." 

And  his  face  bore  an  injured  expression  and  his  lips 
protruded  ;  nevertheless  he  walked  at  Peredonov's  side  ; 
he  had  not  yet  dined  and  he  counted  on  having  dinner 
with  Peredonov  :  luckily  they  had  invited  him  that 
morning. 

An  important  piece  of  news  awaited  Peredonov  at 
home.  While  still  in  the  hall  it  was  easy  to  guess  that 
something  unusual  had  happened — a  bustling  could  be 

237 


heard  in  the  rooms  mingled  with  frightful  exclamations. 
Percdonov  at  once  thought  that  the  dinner  was  not  ready, 
and  that  when  they  saw  him  coming  they  had  been 
frightened  and  were  now  hurrying.  It  was  pleasant  to 
him  to  know  that  they  were  afraid  of  him  !  But  it 
turned  out  to  be  quite  another  matter.  Varvara  ran 
out  into  the  hall  and  shouted  : 

"  The  cat's  been  sent  back  !  " 

In  her  excitement  she  did  not  notice  Volodin  at  first. 
As  usual,  her  dress  was  untidy — a  greasy  blouse  over  a 
grey  dirty  skirt  and  worn-out  house  slippers.  Her  hair 
was  uncombed  and  tousled.  She  said  to  Peredonov 
excitedly  : 

"  It's  Irishka  again  !  She's  played  us  a  new  trick  out 
of  spite.  She  sent  a  boy  here  again  to  throw  the  cat  in 
here — and  the  cat  has  rattles  on  its  tail  and  they  keep  on 
rattling.  The  cat  has  got  under  the  sofa  and  won't 
come  out." 

Peredonov  felt  terribly  alarmed. 

"  What's  to  be  done  now  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Pavel  Vassilyevitch,"  said  Varvara,  "  you're  younger, 
fetch  the  cat  out  from  under  the  sofa." 

"  We'll  fetch  him  out,  we'll  fetch  him  out,"  said 
Volodin  with  a  snigger,  and  went  into  the  parlour. 

Somehow  they  managed  to  drag  out  the  cat  from 
under  the  sofa  and  took  the  rattles  off  his  tail.  Peredonov 
found  some  thistle  heads  and  began  to  stick  them  into 
the  cat's  fur.  The  cat  spat  violently  and  ran  into  the 
kitchen.  Peredonov,  tired  of  his  messing  about  with  the 
cat,  sat  down  in  his  usual  position — his  elbows  on  the 
arms  of  the  chair,  his  fingers  interlaced,  his  legs  crossed, 
his  face  motionless  and  morose. 

Peredonov  kept  the  Princess's  second  letter  more 
zealously  than  the  first  :  he  always  carried  it  about  with 
him  in  his  wallet  and  showed  it  to  everyone,  looking 
mysterious  as  he  did  so.     He  looked  vigilantly  to  see 

238 


that  no  one  took  the  letter  away  from  him.  He  did  not 
give  it  into  anyone's  hands,  and  after  each  showing  he 
put  it  away  in  his  wallet,  which  he  put  into  the  side- 
pocket  of  his  frock-coat,  buttoned  up  his  coat  and  looked 
gravely  and  significantly  at  his  companions. 

"Why  do  you  hide  it  away  like  that  ?  "  Routilov  once 
asked  him  laughingly. 

"As  a  precaution,"  said  Peredonov  morosely,  "  who 
can  tell  ?    You  might  take  it  from  me." 

"  It'd  be  a  case  for  Siberia,"  said  Routilov  with  a 
contemptuous  laugh,  slapping  Peredonov  on  the  back. 

But  Peredonov  preserved  an  imperturbable  dignity. 
In  general  he  had  lately  been  assuming  an  air  of  greater 
importance.    He  aften  boasted  : 

"  I'll  be  an  inspector.  You  will  go  sour  here,  but  I 
shall  have  two  districts  to  begin  with.  And  then  perhaps 
three,  Oh— ho— ho  !  " 

He  was  quite  convinced  that  he  would  receive  his 
inspector's  position  very  soon.  More  than  once  he  said 
to  the  schoolmaster,  Falastov  : 

"  I'll  get  you  too  out  of  here,  old  chap." 

And  the  schoolmaster,  Falastov,  was  more  respectful 
in  his  bearing  to  Peredonov. 


239 


CHAPTER   XXII 

Peredonov  began  to  attend  church  frequently.  He 
always  stood  in  a  conspicuous  place.  At  one  time  he 
crossed  himself  more  often  than  was  necessary,  at  another 
he  stood  like  a  person  in  a  trance  and  looked  stupidly 
before  him.  It  seemed  to  him  that  spies  were  hiding 
behind  the  columns,  and  were  peeping  out  from  there, 
trying  to  make  him  laugh.  But  he  did  not  yield.  Laugh- 
ter, the  quiet,  faint  laughter,  the  giggling  and  the 
whispering  of  the  Routilov  girls,  sounded  in  Pcredonov's 
ears,  and  grew  at  times  to  an  extraordinary  pitch — as  if 
the  cunning  girls  were  laughing  straight  into  his  ears, 
to  make  him  laugh  and  to  disgrace  him.  But  Peredonov 
did  not  yield. 

At  times  a  smoke-like,  bluish  nedotikomka  appeared 
among  the  clouds  of  incense  smoke  ;  its  eyes  gleamed 
like  little  fires  ;  with  a  slight  rustle  it  lifted  itself  into  the 
air,  though  not  for  long,  but  for  the  most  part  it  rolled 
itself  at  the  feet  of  members  of  the  congregation,  it  jeered 
at  Peredonov  and  tormented  him  obtrusively.  Of 
course,  it  wanted  to  frighten  him  so  that  he  would  leave 
the  church  before  Mass  was  over.  But  he  understood  its 
cunning  design — and  he  did  not  yield. 

The  church  service — so  dear  to  many  people  not  in  its 
words  and  ceremonies  but  in  its  innermost  appeal — was 
incomprehensible  to  Peredonov.  That  is  why  it  frightened 
him.  The  swinging  of  the  censers  frightened  him  as  if  it 
had  been  a  mysterious  incantation. 

"  What's  he  swinging  it  so  hard  for  ?  "  he  thought. 

The  vestments  of  those  serving  the  Mass  seemed  to 
him  coarse,  vari-coloured  rags — and  when  he  looked  at  the 
array  of  priests  he  felt  malignant,  and  he  wanted  to  tear 

240 


the  vestments  and  break  the  sacred  vessels.  The  church 
ceremonies  and  mysteries  seemed  to  him  an  evil  witch- 
craft, intended  to  subject  the  common  people. 

"  He's  crumbled  the  wafer  into  the  communion  cup," 
he  thought  angrily  of  the  priest.  "  It's  cheap  wine. 
They  deceive  the  people  to  get  more  money  for  their 
church  celebrations." 

The  mystery  of  the  eternal  transformation  of  inert 
matter  into  a  force  breaking  the  fetters  of  death  was  for 
ever  hidden  from  him.  A  walking  corpse  !  The  absurd 
mingling  of  unbelief  in  a  living  God  and  His  Messiah, 
with  his  absurd  belief  in  sorcery  ! 

The  people  were  leaving  the  church.  The  village 
schoolmaster,  Machigin,  a  simple  young  man,  was  stand- 
ing near  the  girls,  smiling  and  conversing  freely  with 
them.  Peredonov  thought  that  it  was  not  quite  becom- 
ing for  him  to  conduct  himself  so  freely  before  the  future 
inspector.  Machigin  wore  a  straw  hat.  But  Peredonov 
remembered  that  in  the  summer  he  had  seen  him  just 
outside  the  town  wearing  an  official  cap  with  a  badge. 
Peredonov  decided  to  complain  about  it.  As  it  happened, 
Inspector  Bogdanov  was  also  present.  Peredonov  walked 
up  to  him  and  said  : 

"  Your  Machigin  has  been  wearing  a  cap  with  a  badge. 
He's  trying  to  look  like  a  gentleman." 

Bogdanov  was  alarmed,  trembled,  and  his  grey  Adam's 
apple  quivered. 

"  He  has  no  right  !  No  right  whatever  !  "  he  ex- 
claimed anxiously,  blinking  his  red-rimmed  eyes. 

"  He  has  no  right,  but  he's  been  wearing  it,"  complained 
Peredonov.  "  He  ought  to  be  stopped — I  told  you  that 
long  ago.  Or  else  any  boor  of  a  muzhik  can  wear  a  badge  ; 
and  what  will  come  of  it  ?  " 

Bogdanov,  who  had  been  frightened  by  Peredonov 
before,  was  even  more  alarmed. 

"  How  does  he  dare,  eh  ?  "  he  wailed.  "  I  will  call  him  up 
at  once,  at  once.     And  I'll  reprimand  him  most  severely." 

R— LITTLE  DEMON  241 


He  left  Peredonov  and  quickly  ran  off  home. 

Volodin  walked  at  Peredonov's  side  and  said  in  a 
reproachful,  bleating  voice  : 

"  He's  wearing  a  badge.  What  do  you  think  of  that  ! 
As  if  he  had  an  official  rank  !    Why  is  it  alloAved  !  " 

"  You  mustn't  wear  a  badge  either,"  said  Peredonov. 

"  I  mustn't  and  I  don't  want  to,"  said  Volodin.  "  Still 
I  sometimes  put  on  a  badge — only  I  know  where  and 
when  one  can  do  it.  I  go  out  of  the  town  and  I  put  it  on 
there.  It  gives  me  great  pleasure,  and  there's  no  one  to 
stop  me.  And  when  you  meet  a  muzhik  you  get  more 
respect " 

"  A  badge  doesn't  become  your  mug,  Pavloushka," 
said  Peredonov ;  "  and  keep  farther  off,  you're  making 
me  dusty  with  your  hoofs." 

Volodin  relapsed  into  an  injured  silence,  but  still 
walked  beside  him.  Peredonov  said  in  a  preoccupied 
way: 

"  The  Routilov  girls  ought  to  be  informed  against 
too.  They  only  go  to  church  to  chatter  and  to  laugh. 
They  rouge  themselves,  they  dress  themselves  up  and 
then  go  to  church.  And  then  they  steal  incense  to 
make  scents  of — that's  why  they  have  such  a  strong 
smell." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that  ?  "  said  Volodin  shaking 
his  head  with  his  bulging,  dull  eyes. 

The  shadow  of  a  cloud  ran  quickly  over  the  ground, 
and  brought  a  feeling  of  dread  on  Peredonov.  Sometimes 
the  grey  nedotikonika  glimmered  in  the  clouds  of  dust. 
Whenever  the  grass  stirred  in  the  wind  Peredonov  saw 
the  ncdotikomka  running  through  it,  feeding  on  the 
grass. 

"  Why  is  there  grass  in  the  town  ?  "  he  thought.  "  What 
neglect ;   it  ought  to  be  rooted  out." 

A  twig  stirred  in  the  tree,  it  rolled  up,  cawed  and  flew 
away  in  the  distance.  Peredonov  shivered,  gave  a  wild 
cry  and  ran  off  home.     Volodin  ran  after  him  anxiously, 

242 


and,   with  a  perplexed  expression  in  his  bulging  eyes, 
clutched  at  his  bowler  hat  and  swung  his  stick. 

That  same  day  Bogdanov  asked  Machigin  to  come  and 
see  him.  Before  entering  the  inspector's  house  Machigin 
stood  in  the  street  with  his  back  to  the  sun,  took  off  his 
hat  and  combed  his  hair  with  his  fingers,  noticing  from 
his  shadow  that  his  hair  was  unkempt. 

"  Explain  yourself,  young  man.  What  are  you  think- 
ing of,  eh  ?  "  Bogdanov  assailed  Machigin  with  these 
words. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  asked  Machigin  unconcernedly, 
playing  with  his  straw  hat  and  swinging  his  left  foot. 

Bogdanov  did  not  ask  him  to  sit  down  as  he  intended 
to  reprimand  him. 

"  How  is  it,  young  man,  how  is  it  that  you've  been 
wearing  a  badge,  eh  ?  What  made  you  infringe  the  rule  ?" 
he  asked,  assuming  an  expression  of  sternness  and  shaking 
his  Adam's  apple.  Machigin  flushed  but  answered 
boldly  : 

"  What  of  it  ?    Haven't  I  a  right  to  ?  " 

"  Are  you  an  official,  eh  ?  An  official  ?  "  said  Bog- 
danov excitedly.  "  What  sort  of  an  official  are  you,  eh  ? 
A  copying  clerk,  eh  ?  " 

"  It's  a  sign  of  a  schoolmaster's  calling,"  said  Machigin, 
boldly,  and  suddenly  smiled  as  he  called  to  mind  what  the 
dignity  of  a  schoolmaster's  vocation  was. 

"  Carry  a  stick  in  your  hand,  a  stick.  That's  the  sign 
of  your  schoolmaster's  calling,"  said  Bogdanov  shaking 
his  head. 

"  But  please,  Sergey  Potapitch,"  said  Machigin  in  an 
injured  tone,  "  what's  the  good  of  a  stick  ?  Anyone  can 
do  that,  but  a  badge  gives  a  man  prestige." 

"  What  sort  of  prestige,  eh  ?  What  sort  of  prestige  ?  " 
Bogdanov  shouted  at  him.  "  What  sort  of  prestige  do 
you  want,  eh  ?    Are  you  an  official  ?  " 

"  Oh,  but  forgive  me,  Sergey  Potapitch,"  said  Machigin 

243 


persuasively  and  reasonably.  "  Among  the  ignorant 
peasant  classes  a  badge  immediately  arouses  a  feeling  of 
respect — they've  been  much  more  respectful  lately." 

Machigin  stroked  his  red  moustache  in  a  self-satisfied 
way. 

"  It  can't  be  allowed,  young  man,  it  can't  be  allowed 
under  any  consideration,"  said  Bogdanov  shaking  his 
head  stiffly. 

"  But  please,  Sergey  Potapitch,  a  schoolmaster  with- 
out a  badge  is  like  the  British  lion  without  a  tail,"  pro- 
tested Machigin.    "  He's  only  a  caricature." 

"  What's  a  tail  got  to  do  with  it,  eh  ?  Why  drag  in  the 
tail,  eh  ?  "  said  Bogdanov  excitedly.  "  Why  are  you 
mixing  it  up  with  politics,  eh  ?  What  business  is  it  of 
yours  to  discuss  politics,  eh  ?  No,  young  man,  you'd 
better  dispense  with  the  badge.  For  Heaven's  sake, 
give  it  up.  No,  it's '  impossible.  -  How  could  it  be 
possible.  God  preserve  us,  we  can't  tell  who  might  find 
it  out !  " 

Machigin  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  was  about  to  say 
something  else,  but  Bogdanov  interrupted  him — what 
Bogdanov  considered  a  brilliant  idea  flashed  into  his 
head. 

"  But  you  came  to  me  without  the  badge,  without  the 
badge,  eh  ?  You  yourself  feel  that  it's  not  the  right  thing 
to  do." 

Machigin  was  nonplussed  for  a  moment,  but  found  an 
answer  even  to  this  : 

"  As  we  are  rural  schoolmasters  we  need  this  privilege 
in  the  country,  but  in  town  we  are  known  to  belong  to 
the  intellectual  classes." 

"  No,  young  man,  you  know  very  well  that  this  is  not 
allowed.  And  if  I  hear  of  it  again  we  shall  have  to  get 
rid  of  you." 

From  time  to  time  Grushina  arranged  evening  parties 
for  young  people,  from  among  whom  she  hoped  to  find 

244 


another  husband.  To  conceal  her  purpose  she  also 
invited  married  people. 

The  guests  came  early  to  one  of  these  parties. 

Pictures  covered  in  thick  muslin  hung  on  the  walls  of 
Grushina's  drawing-room.  There  was  really  nothing 
indecent  in  them.  When  Grushina,  with  an  arch, 
wanton  smile,  raised  these  curtains,  the  guests  gazed 
at  badly-drawn  figures  of  naked  women. 

"  Why  is  this  woman  so  crooked  ?  "  asked  Peredonov 
morosely. 

"  She's  not  crooked  at  all,"  Grushina  defended  the 
picture  warmly.    "  She's  only  bending  over." 

"  She  is  crooked,"  repeated  Peredonov,  "  and  her  eyes 
are  not  the  same — like  yours." 

"  Much  you  understand  about  it,"K  said  Grushina 
offendedly.  "  These  pictures  are  very  good  and  very 
expensive.    Artists  always  prefer  such  models." 

Peredonov  suddenly  burst  out  laughing  :  he  recalled 
the  advice  he  had  given  Vladya  a  few  days  ago. 

"  What  are  you  neighing  at  ?  "  asked  Grushina. 

"  Nartanovitch,  the  schoolboy,  is  going  to  singe 
Marta's  dress.    I  advised  him  to,"  he  explained. 

"  Let  him  just  do  it !  He's  not  such  a  fool,"  said 
Grushina. 

"  Of  course  he'll  do  it,"  said  Peredonov  confidently. 
''  Brothers  always  quarrel  with  their  sisters.  When  I 
was  a  kid  I  always  played  tricks  on  my  sisters — I  pum- 
melled the  little  ones  and  I  used  to  spoil  the  older  ones' 
clothes." 

"  Everyone  doesn't,"  said  Routilov.  "  I  don't  quarrel 
with  my  sisters." 

"  Well,  what  do  you  do  ?  Kiss  them  ?  "  asked  Pere- 
donov. 

"  You  are  a  swine  and  a  scoundrel,  Ardalyon  Borisitch, 
I'll  give  you  a  black  eye,"  said  Routilov  calmly. 

"  I  don't  like  such  jokes,"  said  Peredonov,  and  moved 
away  from  Routilov. 

245 


"  Yes,"  thought  Peredonov,  "  he  might  really  do  it. 
He's  got  such  a  mean  face." 

"  She  has  only  one  dress,  a  black  one,"  he  went  on, 
referring  to  Marta. 

"  Vershina  will  make  her  a  new  one,"  said  Varvara 
with  spiteful  envy,  "  she'll  make  all  her  dowry  for  her. 
She's  such  a  beauty  that  even  the  horses  are  frightened," 
she  grumbled  on  quietly,  looking  maliciously  at  Mourin. 

"  It's  time  for  you  to  marry  too,"  said  Prepoloven- 
skaya.    "  What  are  you  waiting  for,  Ardalyon  Borisitch  ?  " 

The  Propolovenskys  already  saw  that  after  the  second 
letter  Peredonov  was  determined  to  marry  Varvara. 
They  also  believed  in  the  letter.  They  began  to  say  that 
they  had  always  been  on  Varvara's  side.  There  was  no 
good  in  their  quarrelling  with  Peredonov — it  was  profit- 
able to  play  cards  with  him.  As  for  Gcnya,  there  was 
nothing  to  do  but  to  wait — they  would  have  to  look  for 
another  husband. 

"  Of  course  you  ought  to  marry,"  said  Prepolovensky. 
"  It  will  be  a  good  thing  in  itself,  and  you'll  please  the 
Princess ;  the  Princess  will  be  pleased  that  you're 
married,  and  so  you  will  please  her  and  you'll  do  a  good 
thing,  yes,  a  good  thing,  and  yes,  really,  you'll  be  doing 
a  good  thing  and  you'll  please  the  Princess." 

"  Yes,  and  I  say  the  same  thing,"  said  Prepolovcnskaya. 

But  Prepolovensky  was  unable  to  stop,  and  seeing  that 
everyone  was  walking  away  from  him  he  sat  down  beside 
a  young  official  and  began  to  explain  the  same  thing  to 
him. 

"  I've  decided  to  get  married,"  said  Peredonov,  "  only 
Varvara  and  I  don't  know  how  to  do  it.  I  really  don't 
know  how  to  go  about  it." 

"  It's  not  such  a  difficult  business,"  said  Prepolovcn- 
skaya. "  Now,  if  you  like,  my  husband  and  I  will  arrange 
everything.  You  just  sit  still  and  don't  think  about 
anything." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Peredonov,  "  I'm  agreeable.     Only 

246 


everything  must  be  done  well  and  in  proper  style.  I  don't 
mind  what  it  costs." 

"  Everything  will  be  quite  all  right,  don't  worry  about 
that,"  Prepolovenskaya  assured  him. 

Peredonov  continued  to  state  his  conditions  : 

"  Other  people  through  stinginess  buy  thin  wedding 
rings  or  silver  ones  gilt  over,  but  I  don't  want  to  do  that. 
I  want  pure  gold  ones.  And  I  even  prefer  wedding 
bracelets  to  wedding  rings — they  are  more  expensive  and 
more  dignified." 

Everyone  laughed. 

"  Bracelets  are  impossible,"  said  Prepolovenskaya 
smiling  slightly.    "  You  must  have  rings." 

"  Why  impossible  ?  "  asked  Peredonov  in  vexation. 

"  Simply  because  it's  not  done." 

"  But  perhaps  it  is  done,"  said  Peredonov  increduously. 
"  I  will  ask  the  priest.    He  knows  best." 

Routilov  advised  him  with  a  snigger  : 

"  You'd  better  order  wedding  belts,  Ardalyon  Boris- 
itch." 

"  I  haven't  got  money  enough  for  that,"  said  Pere- 
donov, not  noticing  the  smiles.  "  I'm  not  a  banker. 
Only  the  other  day  I  dreamed  that  I  was  being  married, 
and  that  I  wore  a  velvet  frock-coat  and  that  Varvara  and 
I  had  gold  bracelets.  And  behind  us  were  two  head- 
masters holding  the  crowns  over  us,  singing  '  Hallelujah.' : 

"  I  also  had  an  interesting  dream  last  night,"  an- 
nounced Volodin.  "  But  I  don't  know  what  it  can  mean. 
I  was  sitting,  as  it  were,  on  a  gold  throne  with  a  gold 
crown  on,  and  there  was  grass  in  front  of  me  and  on  the 
grass  were  little  sheep,  all  little  sheep,  all  little  sheep, 
ba-a  ! — ba-a  !  And  the  little  sheep  walked  about  and 
moved  their  heads  like  this  and  kept  on  their  ba-a  !  ba-a  ! 
ba-a  !  " 

Volodin  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  shaking  his 
head,  protruded  his  lips  and  bleated.  The  guests  laughed. 
Volodin  sat  down  on  a  chair  with  an  expression  of  bliss 

247 


on  his  face,  looked  at  them  with  his  bulging  eyes  and 
laughed  with  the  same  sheep-like  bleating  laughter. 

"  What  happened  then  ?  "  asked  Grushina,  winking  at 
the  others. 

"  Well,  it  was  all  little  sheep  and  little  sheep,  and  then 
I  woke  up,"  concluded  Volodin. 

[    "A  sheep  has  sheepish  dreams,"  growled  Peredonov. 
"  It  isn't  such  great  shakes  being  Tsar  of  the  sheep." 

"  I  also  had  a  dream,"  said  Varvara  with  an  impudent 
smile,  "  only  I  can't  tell  it  before  men.  I'll  tell  it  to  you 
alone." 

"  Ah,  my  dear  Varvara  Dmitricvna,  it's  strange  I  had 
one  too,"  sniggered  Grushina,  winking  at  the  others. 

"  Please  tell  us,  we're  modest  men,  like  the  ladies," 
said  Routilov. 

The  other  men  also  besought  Varvara  and  Grushina 
to  tell  them  their  dreams.  But  the  pair  only  exchanged 
glances,  laughed  meaningly  and  would  not  tell. 

They  sat  down  to  play  cards.  Routilov  assured  every- 
one that  Peredonov  played  cards  well.  Peredonov 
believed  him.  But  that  evening  he  lost  as  usual.  Rou- 
tilov was  winning.  This  elated  him  and  he  talked  more 
animatedly  than  usual. 

The  nedotikomka  mocked  at  Peredonov.  It  was 
hiding  somewhere  near  by — it  would  show  itself  some- 
times, peering  out  from  behind  the  table  or  from  behind 
someone's  back,  and  then  hide  again.  It  seemed  to  be 
waiting  for  something.  He  felt  dismayed.  The  very 
appearance  of  the  cards  dismayed  him.  He  saw  two 
queens  in  the  place  of  one. 

"  And  where's  the  third,"  thought  Peredonov. 

He  dully  examined  the  queen  of  spades,  then  turned 
it  round  to  see  if  the  third  queen  was  hiding  on  the  back. 

Routilov  said  :  "  Ardalyon  Borisitch  is  looking  behind 
the  queen's  shirt."* 

*  "Roubaska"  generally  means  "shirt,"  but  also  is  used  to  ex- 
press the  "  back''  of  a  card.     Hence  Routilov's  pun. 

248 


They  all  laughed. 

In  the  meantime  two  young  police  officials  sat  down  to 
play  douratchki.*  They  played  their  hands  very  quickly. 
The  winner  laughed  with  joy  and  made  a  long  nose  at  the 
other.    The  loser  growled. 

There  was  a  smell  of  food.  Grushina  called  the  guests 
into  the  dining-room.  They  all  went,  jostling  each  other, 
and  with  an  affected  politeness.  Somehow  they  managed 
to  seat  themselves. 

"  Help  yourselves,  everyone,"  said  Grushina  hospit- 
ably. "  Now  then,  my  dears,  stuff  without  fears  to  your 
very  ears."f 

"  Eat  the  cake  for  the  hostess'  sake,"  shouted  Mourin 
gleefully. 

He  felt  very  gay,  looking  at  the  vodka  and  thinking 
about  his  winnings. 

Volodin  and  the  two  young  officials  helped  themselves 
more  lavishly  than  anyone  else,  they  picked  out  the 
choicest  and  most  expensive  things,  and  ate  caviare 
greedily. 

Grushina  said  with  a  forced  laugh  : 

''  Pavel  Ivanitch  is  drunk,  but  still  knows  the  differ- 
ence between  bread  and  cake."  As  if  she  had  bought  the 
caviare  for  him  !  And  under  the  pretext  of  serving  the 
ladies  she  took  the  best  dishes  away  from  him.  But 
Volodin  was  not  disconcerted  and  was  glad  to  take  what 
was  left :  he  had  managed  to  eat  a  good  deal  of  the  best 
things  and  it  was  all  the  same  to  him  now. 

Peredonov  looked  at  the  munchers  and  it  seemed  to 
him  that  everyone  was  laughing  at  him.  Why  ?  For 
what  reason  ?  He  ate  piggishly  and  greedily  everything 
that  came  to  his  hand. 

After  supper  they  sat  down  to  play  cards  again.  But 
Peredonov  soon  got  tired  of  it.  He  threw  down  the  cards 
and  said  : 

*  Diminutive  of  "  dourak" — fool.     A  Russian  card  game. 
t  See  note  on  page  93. 

249 


"  To  the  devil  with  you  !  I  have  no  luck.  I'm  tired  ! 
Varvara,  let's  go  home." 

And  the  other  guests  got  up  at  the  same  time.  Volodin 
saw  in  the  hall  that  Peredonov  had  a  new  stick,  lie 
smiled  and  turned  the  stick  over  in  front  of  him,  asking  : 

"  Ardasha,  why  are  these  fingers  bent  into  a  little  roll  ? 
What  does  it  mean  ?  " 

Peredonov  angrily  took  the  stick  from  him  and  put 
the  handle  with  a  Koukish*  carved  out  of  black  wood  on 
it  to  Volodin's  nose  and  said  : 

"  A  fig  with  butter  for  you  !  " 

Volodin  looked  offended. 

'  Allow  me  to  say,  Ardalyon  Borisiteh,"  he  said,  "  that 
I  eat  bread  with  butter,  but  that  I  do  not  want  to  eat 
a  fig  with  butter." 

Peredonov,  without  listening  to  him,  was  solicitously 
wrapping  up  his  neck  in  a  scarf  and  buttoning  up  his 
overcoat.    Routilov  said  with  a  laugh  : 

"  Why  are  you  wrapping  yourself  up,  Ardalyon 
Borisiteh  ?    It's  quite  warm." 

"  Health  before  everything,"  replied  Peredonov. 

It  was  quiet  in  the  street — the  street  was  stretched  out 
in  the  darkness  as  if  asleep  and  snored  gently.  It  was 
dark,  melancholy  and  damp.  Heavy  clouds  moved 
across  the  sky.    Peredonov  growled  : 

"  They've  let  loose  the  darkness.    Why  ?  " 

He  was  not  afraid  now — he  was  walking  with  Varvara 
and  not  alone. 

Soon  a  small,  rapid,  continuous  rain  began  to  fall. 
Everything  was  still.  And  only  the  rain  babbled  some- 
thing obtrusively  and  quickly,  sobbing  out  incoherent, 
melancholy  phrases. 

Peredonov  felt  in  nature  the  reflection  of  his  own 
dejection,  his  own  dread  before  the  mask  of  her  hostility 
to  him — he  had  no  conception  of  that  inner  life  in  all 
nature  which  is  inaccessible  to  external  decrees,  the  life 

*  See  note  to  page  230. 
250 


which  alone  creates  the  true,  deep  and  unfailing  relations 
between  man  and  nature,  because  all  nature  seemed  to 
him  permeated  with  petty  human  feelings.  Blinded  by 
the  illusions  of  personality  and  distinct  existence  he 
could  not  understand  elemental  Dionysian  exultations 
rejoicing  and  clamouring  in  nature.  He  was  blind  and 
pitiful,  like  so  many  of  us. 


251 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

The  Prepolovenskys  undertook  the  arrangement  of  the 
wedding.  It  was  decided  that  they  should  be  married 
in  a  village  six  versts  from  the  town.  Varvara  felt  uneasy 
about  marrying  in  the  town,  after  they  had  lived  together 
so  many  years  as  relatives.  The  day  fixed  for  the  wedding 
was  concealed.  The  Prepolovenskys  spread  a  rumour 
that  it  was  to  take  place  on  Friday,  but  it  was  really 
to  be  on  Wednesday.  They  did  it  to  prevent  curiosity 
seekers  from  coming  to  the  wedding.  Varvara  more 
than  once  said  to  Peredonov  : 

"  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  don't  you  say  a  word  of  when 
the  wedding  is  to  be  or  they  might  hinder  us." 
;...  Peredonov  gave  the  expenses  for  the  wedding  unwill- 
ingly and  with  humiliations  for  Varvara.  Sometimes  he 
brought  his  stick  with  the  Koukish  head  and  said  to 
Varvara  : 

"  Kiss  the  Koukish  and  I'll  give  you  the  money.  If 
you  don't,  I  won't." 

Varvara  kissed  the  Koukish. 

"  What  of  that,  it  won't  split  my  lips,"  she  said. 

The  date  of  the  wedding  was  kept  secret  even  from 
the  bride's-men  until  the  day  itself,  so  that  they  might 
not  chatter  about  it.  At  first  lloutilov  and  Volodin  were 
invited  as  bride's-men  and  both  eagerly  accepted ; 
Routilov  looked  for  an  amusing  experience,  while  Volodin 
felt  flattered  to  play  such  an  important  role  at  such  a 
distinguished  event  in  the  life  of  such  an  esteemed 
personage.  Then  Peredonov  considered  that  one  bride's- 
man  was  not  enough  for  him.    He  said  : 

"  Varvara,  you  can  have  one,  but  I  must  have  two. 

252 


One  isn't  enough  for  me — it  will  be  difficult  to  hold  the 
crown*  over  me.    I'm  a  tall  man." 

And  Peredonov  invited  Falastov  as  his  second  bride's- 
man. 

Varvara  grumbled  : 

"  To  the  devil  with  him  !  We've  got  two,  why  should 
we  have  any  more  ?  " 

"  He's  got  gold  spectacles.  He'll  look  important," 
said  Peredonov. 

On  the  morning  of  the  wedding  Peredonov  washed  in 
hot  water,  as  he  always  did,  to  avoid  catching  cold,  and 
then  demanded  rouge,  explaining : 

"  Now  I  have  to  rouge  myself  every  day  or  else  they'll 
think  I'm  getting  old  and  they  won't  appoint  me  as 
inspector." 

Varvara  disliked  giving  him  any  of  her  rouge,  but  she 
had  to  yield — and  Peredonov  coloured  his  cheeks.  He 
muttered  : 

"  Veriga  himself  paints  so  as  to  look  younger.  You 
don't  expect  me  to  get  married  with  white  cheeks." 

Then,  shutting  himself  in  his  bedroom,  he  decided  to 

mark  himself,  so  that  Volodin  could  not  change  places 

with  him.    On  his  chest,  on  his  stomach,  on  his  forearms 

and  in  various  other  places  he  marked  in  ink  the  letter 
«  p  « 

"  Volodin  ought  to  be  marked  too.  But  how  can  he 
be  ?  He  would  see  it  and  rub  it  off,"  thought  Peredonov 
dejectedly. 

Then  a  new  thought  came  into  his  mind — to  put  on 
a  pair  of  corsets  so  that  he  should  not  be  taken  for  an 
old  man  if  he  happened  to  bend  over.  He  asked  Varvara 
for  a  pair  of  corsets,  but  Varvara's  corsets  proved  to  be 
too  tight — they  would  not  come  together. 

"  They  ought  to  have  been  bought  earlier,"  he  said 
savagely.    "  You  never  think  of  anything  in  time." 

*  Crowns  are  held  over  the  bride  and  bridegroom  at  Russian 
weddings  in  church. 

253 


"  What  man  wears  corsets  ?  "  said  Varvara.    "  No  one 
does." 

"  Veriga  does,"  said  Peredonov. 

'  Yes,    Veriga    is    an    old    man,    but    you,    Ardalyon 
Borisitch,  thank  God,  arc  in  your  prime." 

Peredonov  smiled  with  self-satisfaction,  looked  in  the 
mirror  and  said  : 

"  Of  course,   I  shall  live  another  hundred  and  fifty 
years." 

The  cat  sneezed  under  the  bed.     Varvara  said  with  a 
smile  : 

'  There,   even  the   cat's   sneezing  !     That   shows  it's 
true." 

But  Peredonov  suddenly  frowned.    The  cat  now  aroused 
dread  in  him  and  its  sneezing  seemed  to  him  a  sign  of 


ominous  cunning. 


"  He'll  sneeze  something  that's  not  wanted,"  he 
thought,  and  got  under  the  bed  and  began  to  drive  the 
cat  out.  The  cat  mewed  savagely,  pressed  against  the 
wall,  and  suddenly  with  a  loud,  piercing  mew,  jumped 
between  Peredonov's  hands  and  ran  out  of  the  room. 

"  A  Dutch  devil,"  Peredonov  abused  the  animal 
savagely. 

"  He's  certainly  a  devil,"  affirmed  Varvara.  "  He's 
become  altogether  wild.  He  won't  let  himself  be  stroked, 
as  if  the  devil  had  got  into  him." 

The  Prepolovenskys  sent  for  the  bride's-men  early  in 
the  morning.  At  ten  o'clock  all  had  gathered  at  Pere- 
donov's. Grushina  also  came,  and  Sofya  with  her 
husband.  They  were  handed  vodka  and  the  usual 
zakouska. 

Peredonov  ate  little  and  thought  dejectedly  as  to  how 
he  could  distinguish  himself  from  Volodin. 

"  He's  curled  like  a  sheep,"  he  thought  maliciously,  and 
suddenly  imagined  that  he  too  might  comb  his  hair  in  a 
special  way.    He  rose  from  the  table  and  said  : 

'  You  go  on  eating  and  drinking — I  don't  object;   but 

254 


I'll  go  to  the  hairdresser  and  I'll  have  my  hair  done  in 
the  Spanish  style." 

"  What  is  the  Spanish  style  ?  "  asked  Routilov. 

"  Wait  and  you'll  see." 

When  Peredonov  went  to  get  his  hair  trimmed,  Var- 
vara  said  : 

"  He's  always  inventing  new  notions.  He  sees  devils. 
If  he  only  drank  less  gin,  the  cursed  tippler  ! " 

Prepolovenskaya  said  with  a  sly  smile  : 

"  Well,  as  soon  as  you  are  married,  Ardalyon  Borisitch 
will  get  his  place  and  settle  down." 

Grushina  sniggered.  She  was  amused  by  the  secrecy 
of  this  wedding,  and  she  was  excited  by  an  intense  desire 
to  create  an  ignominious  spectacle  of  some  sort  and  yet 
not  be  mixed  up  with  it.  On  the  day  before  she  had 
whispered  in  an  underhand  way  to  her  friends  the  place 
and  hour  of  the  wedding.  And  early  that  morning  she 
had  called  in  the  blacksmith's  younger  son,  had  given 
him  a  five-kopeck  piece,  and  hinted  to  him  that  towards 
evening  he  should  wait  outside  the  town  where  the  newly 
married  couple  would  pass,  to  throw  rubbish  at  them. 
The  boy  gladly  agreed  and  gave  Ms  sworn  promise  not 
to  betray  her.    Grushina  reminded  him  : 

"  You  did  give  away  Cherepnin  when  they  beat 
you." 

"  We  Avere  fools,"  said  the  boy.  "  Now,  let  'em  hang 
us  and  we  won't  tell." 

And  the  boy,  in  confirmation  of  his  oath,  ate  a  small 
handful  of  loam.  For  this  Grushina  added  another 
three  kopecks. 

At  the  hairdresser's  Peredonov  demanded  the  barber 
himself.  The  barber,  a  young  man  who  had  lately 
finished  a  course  at  the  town  school  and  who  had  read 
books  from  the  rural  library,  was  just  finishing  cutting 
the  hair  of  a  landed  proprietor.  When  he  had  finished, 
he  came  up  to  Peredonov. 

"  Let  him  go  first,"  said  Peredonov  angrily. 

255 


The  man  paid  and  left.  Peredonov  sat  down  in  front 
of  the  mirror. 

"  I  want  my  hair  trimmed  and  properly  arranged," 
said  he.  "  I  have  an  important  affair  on  to-day,  some- 
thing special,  and  so  I  want  my  hair  arranged  in  the 
Spanish  style." 

The  boy  apprentice,  who  stood  at  the  door,  snorted 
with  amusement.  His  master  looked  sternly  at  him. 
He  had  never  had  occasion  to  trim  anyone's  hair  in 
Spanish  style,  and  did  not  know  what  the  Spanish  style 
was  or  even  if  there  were  such  a  style.  But  if  the  gentle- 
man demanded  sueh  a  thing,  then  it  must  be  assumed 
that  he  knew  what  he  wanted.  The  young  hairdresser 
did  not  want  to  betray  his  ignorance.  He  said  respect- 
fully : 

"  It's  impossible  to  do  it  with  your  hair,  sir." 

'  Why  impossible  ?  "  said  Peredonov  taken  aback. 

'  Your  hair  is  badly  nourished,"  explained  the  hair- 
dresser. 

"  Do  you  expect  me  to  pour  beer  over  it  ?  "  growled 
Peredonov. 

"  Excuse  me,  why  beer  ?  "  said  the  hairdresser  affably. 
"  When  your  hair  is  trimmed  your  head  shows  signs  of 
baldness  and  what's  left  isn't  enough  to  do  the  thing  in 
the  Spanish  style." 

Peredonov  felt  himself  crushed  by  the  impossibility  of 
having  his  hair  trimmed  in  the  Spanish  style.  He  said 
dejectedly  : 

"  Well,  cut  it  as  you  like." 

He  began  to  wonder  whether  the  hairdresser  had  been 
persuaded  not  to  cut  his  hair  in  a  distinguished  style. 
He  ought  not  to  have  spoken  about  it  at  home.  Evidently, 
while  he  was  walking  gravely  and  sedately  along  the 
street,  Volodin  had  run  like  a  little  sheep  by  back  streets 
and  had  conspired  with  the  hairdresser. 

"  Would  you  like  a  spray,  sir  ?  "  said  the  hairdresser, 
having  finished  trimming  his  hair. 

256 


"  Spray  me  with  mignonette.  The  more,  the  better," 
demanded  Peredonov.  "  You  might  at  least  make  up 
by  spraying  me  with  plenty  of  mignonette." 

"  I'm  sorry,  but  we  don't  keep  mignonette,"  said  the 
hairdresser  in  confusion.     "  How  will  opopanax  do  ?  ' 

"  You  can't  do  anything  I  want,"  said  Peredonov 
bitterly.  "  Go  ahead,  and  spray  me  with  whatever 
you've  got." 

He  returned  home  in  vexation.  It  was  a  windy  day. 
The  gates  kept  banging,  yawning  and  laughing  in  the 
wind.  Peredonov  looked  at  them  dispiritedly.  How 
could  he  face  the  drive  ?  But  everything  arranged 
itself. 

Three  carriages  were  waiting — they  had  to  sit  down 
and  drive  away  at  once,  in  order  not  to  attract  attention. 
Many  curiosity  mongers  might  collect  and  follow  them 
to  the  wedding,  if  the  carriages  waited  about  too  long. 
They  took  their  places  and  drove  off  :  Peredonov  with 
Varvara,  the  Prepolovenskys  with  Routilov,  Grushina 
with  the  other  bride's-men. 

A  cloud  of  dust  rose  in  the  square.  Peredonov  heard 
a  noise  of  axes.  Barely  visible  through  the  dust,  a  wooden 
wall  loomed  and  grew.  They  were  building  a  fortress. 
Muzhiks,  savage  and  morose-looking,  glimmered  in  their 
red  shirts  through  the  dust. 

The  carriages  ran  past ;  the  terrible  vision  flashed  by 
and  vanished.  Peredonov  looked  around  in  terror,  but 
nothing  was  visible,  and  he  could  not  decide  to  tell  any- 
one about  his  vision. 

A  sadness  tormented  Peredonov  the  whole  way. 
Everything  looked  hostilely  at  him.  The  wind  blew 
ominously.  The  sky  was  black.  The  wind  was  in  their 
faces  and  seemed  to  moan  for  something.  The  trees 
gave  no  shadow — they  kept  their  shadows  within  them- 
selves. But  the  dust  rose,  a  long  grey,  half -transparent 
serpent.  The  sun  hid  behind  the  clouds — did  it  look 
out  from  under  them  ? 

S— LITTLE   DEMON  257 


The  road  was  undulating.  Unexpected  bushes,  copses 
and  fields  rose  from  behind  low  hillocks,  and  streams 
appeared  under  the  hollow-sounding,  wooden  arched 
bridges. 

"  The  eye-bird  flew  by,"  said  Peredonov  morosely, 
looking  into  the  whitish,  misty  distance  of  the  sky. 
"  One  eye  and  two  wings,  and  nothing  more." 

Varvara  smiled.  She  thought  that  Peredonov  had 
been  drunk  since  the  morning.  But  she  did  not  argue 
with  him — "  for,"  she  thought,  "  he  might  get  angry  and 
refuse  to  go  to  the  wedding." 

All  four  of  Routilov's  sisters  were  already  in  a  corner 
of  the  church,  hiding  behind  a  column.  Peredonov  did 
not  see  them  at  first,  but  later  during  the  ceremony  when 
they  appeared  from  their  ambush  and  came  forward,  he 
saw  them  and  felt  frightened.  They  actually  did  not  do 
anything  unpleasant,  they  did  not  demand  (as  he  had 
been  afraid  at  first)  that  he  should  chase  Varvara  away 
and  take  one  of  them.  They  only  kept  laughing  all  the 
time.  And  their  laughter,  quiet  at  first,  resounded  louder 
and  more  evil  in  his  ears  all  the  time,  like  the  laughter 
of  untameable  furies. 

There  were  practically  no  outsiders  in  the  church. 
Only  two  or  three  old  women  came  from  somewhere  or 
other.  And  this  was  fortunate,  for  Peredonov  conducted 
himself  curiously  and  stupidly.  He  yawned,  mumbled, 
nudged  Varvara,  complained  about  the  smell  of  incense, 
wax  and  muzhiks. 

"  Your  sisters  are  always  laughing,"  he  grumbled, 
turning  to  Routilov.  "  They'll  perforate  their  livers 
with  laughing." 

Besides  that,  the  nedotikomka  disturbed  him.  It  was 
dirty  and  dusty  and  kept  hiding  under  the  priest's 
vestments. 

Both  Varvara  and  Grushina  thought  the  church 
ceremonies  amusing.  They  giggled  continuously.  The 
words  about  a  woman  cleaving  to  her  husband  evoked 

258 


special  merriment.  Routilov  also  giggled.  He.  considered 
it  his  duty  always  and  everywhere  to  amuse  the  ladies. 
Volodin  conducted  himself  sedately,  and  crossed  himself, 
preserving  an  expression  of  profundity  on  his  face.  The 
church  ceremonies  did  not  suggest  to  his  mind  anything 
but  that  they  were  an  established  custom  which  ought 
to  be  fulfilled,  and  that  the  fulfilment  of  all  ceremonies 
leads  one  to  a  certain  inner  convenience  :  he  went  to 
church  on  Sundays,  and  he  prayed,  and  was  absolved, 
he  had  sinned  and  repented  and  again  he  was  absolved. 
Now  this  is  excellent  and  convenient — all  the  more 
convenient  because  once  outside  the  church  he  did  not 
have  to  think  about  churchly  matters,  but  was  guided 
entirely  by  quite  different  and  worldly  rules. 

The  ceremony  was  barely  over  and  they  had  not  yet 
had  time  to  leave  the  church  when  suddenly  a  drunken 
crowd  tumbled  noisily  into  the  church.  It  was  Mourin 
and  his  friends. 

Mourin,  dusty  and  tousled,  as  usual,  embraced  Pere- 
donov  and  shouted  : 

'  You  can't  hide  it  from  us,  old  boy  !  We're  such  fast 
friends  that  you  can't  part  us  by  pouring  cold  water  on 
us.    And  yet  you  hid  it  from  us,  you  tricky  fellow  !  " 

Exclamations  came  from  all  sides  : 

"  Villain,  you  didn't  invite  us  !  " 

"  But  we're  here  all  the  same  !  " 

"  Yes,  we  found  it  out  without  you  !  " 

The  new-comers  embraced  and  congratulated  Pere- 
donov.    Mourin  said  : 

"  We  missed  the  way  because  we  stopped  for  a  drink, 
or  else  we'd  have  conferred  the  pleasure  of  our  company 
on  you  earlier." 

Peredonov  looked  at  them  gloomily  and  did  not  reply 
to  their  congralulations.  Malevolence  and  fear  tormented 
him. 

'  They're  always  tracking  me  everywhere,"  he  thought 
dejectedly. 

259 


"  You  might  have  crossed  your  foreheads,"  he  said 
angrily.     "  Or  possibly  you  were  thinking  evil  against 


me." 


The  visitors  crossed  themselves,  laughed  and  joked. 
The  young  officials  especially  distinguished  themselves. 
The  deacon  reproached  them. 

Among  the  visitors  was  a  young  men  with  red  mous- 
taches whom  Peredonov  did  not  even  know.  He  resembled 
a  cat  to  an  extraordinary  degree.  Wasn't  it  their  cat 
turned  into  human  shape  ?  It  was  not  for  nothing  that 
this  young  man  kept  snarling — he  had  not  forgotton  his 
cattish  habits. 

"  Who  told  you  ?  "  asked  Varvara  angrily  of  the  new 
guests. 

"  A  nice  young  woman  told  us,"  replied  Mourin.  "  But 
we  have  forgotten  who  it  was." 

Grushina  turned  around  and  winked  at  them.  The 
new  guests  smiled  back  but  did  not  give  her  away. 
Mourin  said  : 

"  As  you  like,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  but  we're  coming 
with  you  and  you  must  give  us  champagne.  Don't  be 
a  skinflint.  You  can't  pour  cold  water  on  such  friends  as 
we  are,  and  yet  you've  tried  to  get  married  on  the  quiet." 

When  the  Peredonovs  returned  from  the  wedding  the 
sun  had  gone  down,  but  the  sky  was  all  fiery  and  golden. 
But  this  did  not  please  Peredonov.    He  growled  : 

"  They've  dabbed  pieces  of  gold  on  the  sky  and  they're 
falling  off.    Who  ever  saw  such  a  waste  !  " 

The  locksmith's  sons  met  them  just  outside  the  town 
in  a  crowd  of  other  street  boys.  They  ran  alongside  and 
hooted.  Peredonov  trembled  with  fear.  Varvara  uttered 
curses,  spat  at  the  boys,  and  showed  them  the  Koukish. 
The  guests  and  the  bride's-men  roared  with  laughter. 

At  last  they  reached  home.  The  entire  company 
tumbled  into  Percdonov's  house  with  a  shout,  a  hubbub 
and  whistling.  They  drank  champagne,  then  took  to 
vodka  and  began  to  play  cards.    They  kept  on  drinking 

260 


all  night.  Varvara  got  tipsy,  danced,  and  was  happy ; 
Peredonov  was  also  happy — Volodin  had  not  yet  been 
substituted  for  him.  As  always,  the  visitors  conducted 
themselves  disrespectfully  and  indecently  towards  Var- 
vara ;  this  seemed  to  her  to  be  in  the  order  of  things. 

After  the  wedding  the  Peredonovs'  existence  changed 
very  little.  Only  Varvara's  attitude  towards  her  husband 
became  more  assured  and  independent.  She  ran  about 
less  for  her  husband — but,  through  deep-rooted  habit, 
she  was  still  a  little  afraid  of  him.  Peredonov,  also  from 
habit,  shouted  at  her  as  he  used  to  do  and  sometimes 
even  beat  her.  But  he  too  scented  the  assurance  she  had 
acquired  with  her  new  position.  And  this  depressed 
him.  It  seemed  to  him  that  if  she  was  not  so  afraid  of 
him  as  she  had  been,  it  was  because  she  had  strengthened 
her  criminal  idea  to  leave  him  and  get  Volodin  into  his 
place. 

"  I  must  be  on  my  guard,"  he  thought. 

Varvara  triumphed.  She,  together  with  her  husband, 
paid  visits  to  the  town  ladies,  even  to  those  with  whom 
she  was  little  acquainted.  At  these  visits  she  showed  a 
ridiculous  pride  and  awkwardness.  She  was  received 
everywhere  though  in  many  houses  with  astonishment. 
Varvara  had  ordered  in  good  time  for  these  visits  a  hat 
from  the  best  local  modiste.  The  large  vivid  flowers  set 
abundantly  on  the  hat  delighted  her. 

The  Peredonovs  began  their  visits  with  the  Head- 
Master's  wife.  Then  they  went  to  the  wife  of  the  Marshal 
of  the  Nobility. 

On  the  day  that  the  Peredonovs  had  prepared  to  make 
the  visits — of  which,  of  course,  the  Routilovs  knew 
beforehand — the  sisters  went  to  Varvara  Nikolayevna 
Khripatch,  to  see  out  of  curiosity  how  Varvara  Peredonov 
would  conduct  herself.  The  Peredonovs  soon  arrived. 
Varvara  made  a  curtsy  to  the  Head-Master's  wife,  and 
in  a  more  than  usually  jarring  voice  said  : 

261 


"  Well,  we've  come  to  see  you.  Please  love  us  and  be 
kind  to  us." 

"  I'm  very  glad,"  replied  the  Head-Master's  wife 
constrainedly.    And  she  seated  Varvara  on  the  sofa. 

Varvara  sat  down  with  obvious  pleasure  in  the  place 
indicated,  spread  out  her  rustling  green  dress,  and  said, 
trying  to  appear  at  ease  : 

"  I've  been  a  Mam'zell  until  now,  but  now  I've  become 
a  Madam.  We're  namesakes — I'm  Varvara  and  you're 
Varvara — and  we've  not  been  to  each  other's  houses. 
While  I  was  a  Mam'zell,  I  sat  at  home  most  of  the  time. 
What's  the  good  of  sitting  by  one's  stove  all  the  time  ! 
Now  Ardalyon  Borisitch  and  I  will  live  more  socially. 
Grant  me  a  favour — we  will  come  to  you  and  you  will 
come  to  us,  Mossurc  to  Mossure  and  Madame  to  Madame." 

"  But  I  hear  that  you're  not  going  to  stay  here  long," 
said  the  Head-Master's  wife.  "  I'm  told  that  you  and 
your  husband  are  going  to  be  transferred." 

"  Yes,  the  paper  will  come  soon  and  then  we  shall 
leave  here,"  replied  Varvara.  "  But  as  the  paper  has 
not  yet  come,  we  must  stay  here  a  little  longer  and  show 
ourselves." 

Varvara  had  hopes  of  the  inspector's  position.  After 
the  wedding  she  wrote  a  letter  to  the  Princess.  She  had 
not  yet  received  an  answer.  She  decided  to  write  again 
at  the  New  Year. 

Liudmilla  said  : 

"  But  we  thought,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  that  you  were 
going  to  marry  the  young  lady,  Pilnikov  ?  " 

"  What's  the  good  of  me  marrying  anyone  else  ?  " 
said  Pcrcdonov.     "  I  need  patronage." 

"  But  how  did  your  affair  with  Mademoiselle  Pilnikov 
get  broken  off,"  Liudmilla  teased  him.  "  Didn't  you 
pay  her  attentions  ?    Did  she  refuse  you  ?  ' 

"  I'll  show  her  up  yet,"  growled  Peredonov  morosely. 

"  That's  an  idee  fixe  of  Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  said  the 
Head-Master's  wife  with  a  dry  laugh. 

262 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

The  Peredonov's  cat  acted  wildly,  snarled  and  refused 
to  come  when  called — it  had  become  quite  incorrigible. 
The  animal  alarmed  Peredonov.  He  sometimes  pro- 
nounced exorcisms  over  it. 

"  I  wonder  whether  it  will  help,"  he  thought.  "  There's 
strong  electricity  in  a  cat's  fur.  That's  where  the  trouble 
is." 

Once  the  idea  came  into  his  mind  to  have  the  cat 
shorn.  No  sooner  thought  of  than  done.  Varvara  was 
not  at  home.  She  had  gone  to  Grushina's,  after  having 
put  a  bottle  of  cherry  brandy  into  her  pocket.  There  was 
no  one  to  hinder  her.  Peredonov  tied  the  cat  on  a  cord — 
he  had  made  a  collar  out  of  a  pocket  handkerchief — and 
led  the  animal  to  the  hairdresser.  The  cat  mewed  wildly, 
and  struggled.  Sometimes  it  threw  itself  in  desperation 
at  Peredonov — but  Peredonov  kept  it  at  a  distance  with 
his  stick.  A  crowd  of  small  boys  ran  behind  him,  hooting 
and  laughing.  Passers-by  paused  to  look.  People  looked 
out  of  their  windows  to  see  what  the  noise  was  about. 
Peredonov  morosely  dragged  the  cat  along  on  the  cord 
without  the  least  embarrassment. 

He  succeeded  in  getting  the  cat  to  the  hairdresser  and 
said  : 

"  Shave  the  cat,  barber,  the  closer  the  better." 

The  small  boys  crowded  at  the  shop  door,  roaring 
with  laughter  and  making  faces.  The  hairdresser  felt 
offended  and  grew  red.  He  said  in  a  slightly  trembling 
voice  : 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  we  don't  undertake  such  jobs. 
And  who  ever  heard  of  a  shaved  cat  ?  It  must  be  the 
very  latest  fashion  which  hasn't  reached  us  yet." 

263 


Peredonov  listened  to  him  with  stupefied  disappoint- 
ment.   He  shouted  : 

"  You'd  better  admit  that  you  can't  do  it,  incom- 
petent !  " 

And  he  walked  away,  dragging  after  him  the  cat, 
which  mewed  continuously.  On  the  way  he  thought 
dejectedly  that  everywhere  and  always  everyone  laughed 
at  him  and  no  one  wanted  to  help  him.  His  sadness 
oppressed  his  heart. 

Peredonov  went  with  Volodin  and  Routilov  to  the 
Summer-garden  to  play  billiards.  The  marker  said  to 
them  with  embarrassment  : 

"  I'm  sorry,  gentlemen,  you  can't  play  to-day." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  Peredonov  irritatedly. 

"  Well,  I'm  sorry  to  say  there  are  no  billiard  balls," 
replied  the  marker. 

"  Someone  pinched  them  when  he  wasn't  looking," 
said  the  bar-tender  sternly,  leaning  across  the  counter. 

The  marker  trembled  and  suddenly  twitched  his 
reddened  ears,  as  a  hare  does,  and  whispered  : 

"  They  were  stolen." 

Peredonov  exclaimed  in  a  frightened  voice  : 

"  Good  Lord  !    Who  stole  them  ?  " 

"  It's  not  known,"  said  the  marker  ;  "no  one  seemed 
to  have  been  here,  and  then  when  I  went  to  look  for  the 
balls  they  weren't  there." 

Routilov  sniggered  and  exclaimed  : 

"  What  a  funny  thing  !  " 

Volodin  assumed  an  injured  look  and  scolded  the 
marker  : 

"  If  you  allow  the  billiard  balls  to  be  stolen  when  you 
are  somewhere  else  and  the  billiard  balls  disappear,  then 
you  ought  to  have  provided  others  for  us  to  have  some- 
thing to  play  with.  We  come  here  and  want  to  play, 
and  if  there  are  no  billiard  balls,  how  can  we  play  ?  ' 

"  Don't   whine,   Pavloushka,"   said   Peredonov,    "  it's 

2t>4 


bad  enough  without  you.  Now,  marker,  you  go  and  look 
for  those  balls,  we  must  play — but  meanwhile  bring  us  a 
couple  of  beers." 

Thev  began  to  drink  the  beer.  But  it  was  tedious. 
The  billiard  balls  could  not  be  found.  They  wrangled 
with  one  another  and  they  cursed  the  marker.  The  latter 
felt  guilty  and  said  nothing. 

Peredonov  detected  in  this  theft  a  new  intrigue,  hostile 
to  himself. 

"  Why  ?  "  he  thought  dejectedly,  and  could  not  under- 
stand. 

He  went  into  the  garden,  sat  down  on  a  bench  near 
the  pond — he  had  never  sat  there  before — and  fixed  his 
eyes  dully  on  the  weed-clogged  water. 

Volodin  sat  down  beside  him  and  shared  his  grief, 
looking  also  at  the  pond  with  his  sheepish  eyes. 

'  Why  is  there  such  a  dirty  mirror  here,  Pavloushka," 
said  Peredonov,  pointing  at  the  pond  with  his  stick. 

Volodin  smiled  and  replied  : 

"■  It's  not  a  mirror,  Ardasha,  it's  a  pond.  And  as 
there's  no  breeze  just  now  the  trees  are  reflected  in  it  as 
if  in  a  mirror." 

Peredonov  looked  up  ;  a  fence  on  the  other  side  of  the 
pond  separated  the  garden  from  the  street.  Peredonov 
asked  : 

"  Why  is  the  cat  on  that  fence  ?  " 

Volodin  looked  in  the  same  direction  and  said  with  a 
snigger  : 

"  It  was  there,  but  it's  gone." 

There  really  had  been  no  cat — it  was  an  illusion  of 
Peredonov's — a  cat  with  wide  green  eyes,  his  cunning, 
tireless  enemy. 

Peredonov  began  to  think  about  the  billiard  balls  : 

'  Who  needed  them  ?  Has  the  nedotikomka  devoured 
them  ?  Perhaps  that's  why  I  haven't  seen  it  to-day," 
thought  Peredonov.  "  It  must  have  gorged  itself  and 
be  asleep  somewhere  now." 

265 


Peredonov  went  home  dejectedly. 

The  sunset  was  fading.  A  small  cloud  was  wandering 
across  the  sky.  She  moved  stealthily  on  her  soft  shoes, 
and  peeped  out  at  him.  On  her  dark  edges  a  reflection 
smiled  enigmatically. 

Above  the  stream,  which  flowed  between  the  garden 
and  the  town,  the  shadows  of  the  houses  and  the  bushes 
wavered,  whispered  to  each  other,  and  seemed  to  be 
searching  for  someone. 

And  on  the  earth,  in  this  dark  and  eternally  hostile 
town,  all  the  people  he  met  were  evil  and  malicious. 
Everything  became  mingled  in  a  general  ill-will  towards 
Peredonov,  the  dogs  laughed  at  him  and  the  people 
barked  at  him. 

The  ladies  of  the  town  began  to  visit  Varvara.  Some 
of  them  with  an  eager  curiosity  had  managed  to  pay  a 
visit  on  the  second  or  third  day,  to  see  how  Varvara 
looked  at  home.  Others  delayed  a  week  or  more.  And 
still  others  did  not  come  at  all — as,  for  instance,  Ver- 
shina. 

The  Peredonovs  awaited  return  visits  every  day  with 
anxious  impatience  ;  they  counted  up  those  who  had 
not  yet  come.  They  awaited  the  Head-Master  and  his 
wife  with  special  impatience.  They  waited  and  were 
immensely  agitated  for  fear  that  the  Khripatches  should 
suddenly  arrive. 

A  week  had  passed.  The  Khripatches  had  not  yet 
come.  Varvara  had  got  into  a  temper  and  began  to  pour 
out  abuse.  This  waiting  plunged  Peredonov  into  a  deeply 
depressed  state  of  mind.  Peredonov's  eyes  became  en- 
tirely vacant.  It  was  as  if  they  were  becoming  extin- 
guished, and  sometimes  they  seemed  like  the  eyes  of  a 
dead  man.  Absurd  fears  tormented  him.  Without  any 
visible  cause  he  began  to  be  afraid  of  one  or  another 
object.  An  idea  somehow  came  into  his  head — and  tor- 
mented him  for  several  days — that  they  would  cut  his 

266 


throat ;  he  was  afraid  of  everything  sharp  and  hid  the 
knives  and  the  forks. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  thought,  "  they've  been  bewitched  by 
whispered  spells.  It  might  happen  that  I  might  cut 
myself  with  them." 

"  Why  are  there  knives  ?  "  he  asked  Varvara.  "  China- 
men eat  with  chopsticks." 

For  a  whole  week  after  this  they  did  not  cook  any 
meat,  but  lived  on  cabbage-soup  and  gruel. 

Varvara,  to  get  even  with  Peredonov  for  the  troubles 
he  had  caused  her  before  their  wedding,  sometimes  agreed 
with  him  and  encouraged  him  to  think  that  his  fancies 
and  superstitions  had  a  basis  in  reality.  She  told  him 
that  he  had  many  enemies  and  that  they  had  every  reason 
to  envy  him.  More  than  once  she  told  Peredonov  taunt- 
ingly that  he  had  been  informed  against  and  slandered 
to  the  authorities  and  the  Princess.  And  she  rejoiced  at 
his  visible  fear. 

It  seemed  clear  to  Peredonov  that  the  Princess  was 
dissatisfied  with  him.  Why  couldn't  she  have  sent  him 
for  his  wedding  an  ikon  or  cake.  He  thought  :  Oughtn't 
he  to  earn  her  favour  ?  But  how  ?  By  falsehood  ? 
Should  he  slander  someone,  calumniate  someone,  inform 
against  someone  ?  He  knew  that  all  women  love 
tittle-tattle — and  so  couldn't  he  invent  something, 
something  pleasant  and  risque  about  Varvara  and  write 
it  to  the  Princess  ?  She  would  laugh  and  give  him  the 
place. 

But  Peredonov  was  not  able  to  write  the  letter,  and 
felt  apprehensive  about  writing  to  a  Princess.  And  later 
he  forgot  all  about  this  scheme. 

Peredonov  gave  ordinary  visitors  vodka  and  the 
cheapest  port- wine.  But  he  bought  a  three-rouble  bottle 
of  Madeira  for  the  Head-Master.  He  considered  this 
wine  extremely  expensive,  kept  it  in  his  bedroom  and 
showed  it  to  his  visitors,  saying  : 

"  It's  for  the  Head-Master  !  " 

267 


Routilov  and  Volodin  were  once  sitting  at  Peredonov's. 
Peredonov  showed  them  the  Madeira. 

"  What's  the  good  of  looking  at  the  outside,  it  doesn't 
taste  well,"  said  Routilov  with  a  snigger,  "  you  might 
treat  us  to  some  of  your  expensive  Madeira." 

"  What  an  idea !  "  exclaimed  Peredonov  angrily. 
"  What  should  I  give  the  Head-Master  ?  " 

"  The  Head-Master  could  drink  a  glass  of  vodka,"  said 
Routilov. 

"  Head-Masters  don't  drink  vodka,  they  have  to  drink 
Madeira,"  said  Peredonov  reasonably. 

"  But  suppose  he  likes  vodka  ?  "  persisted  Routilov. 

"  Good  heavens  !  You  don't  suppose  a  general  would 
like  vodka  !  "  said  Peredonov  with  conviction. 

"  All  the  same  you'd  better  give  us  some  of  it,"  in- 
sisted Routilov. 

But  Peredonov  quickly  took  away  the  bottle  and  they 
heard  the  click  of  the  lock  on  the  little  cupboard  in  which 
he  kept  the  wine.  When  he  came  back  to  his  guests  he 
began  to  talk  about  the  Princess  to  change  the  conver- 
sation.   He  said  quite  gravely  : 

"  The  Princess  !  Why  she  sold  rotten  apples  in  the 
market  and  managed  to  get  hold  of  a  Prince." 

Routilov  burst  out  laughing  and  shouted  : 

"  Do  Princes  walk  about  markets  ?  " 

"  Oh,  she  knew  how  to  entice  him  in,"  said  Peredonov. 

"  You're  making  it  up,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  it's  a  cock- 
and-bull  story,"  argued  Routilov.  "  The  Princess  is  a 
born  lady." 

Peredonov  looked  at  him  malignantly  and  thought : 

"  He's  defending  her.  That  means  he's  siding  with 
the  Princess.  It's  clear  that  she's  bewitched  him  although 
she  lives  at  a  distance." 

And  the  nedotikomka  Avriggled  about  him,  laughed 
noiselessly  and  shook  all  over  with  laughter.  It  reminded 
Peredonov  of  various  dreadful  circumstances.  He  looked 
around  timidly  and  whispered  : 

268 


"  In  every  town  there's  a  sergeant  of  the  gendarmes 
in  the  secret  service.  He  wears  civilian  clothes,  some- 
times he's  in  the  civil  service,  sometimes  he's  a  tradesman, 
or  he  does  something  else,  but  at  night  when  everyone  is 
asleep  he  puts  on  his  blue  uniform  and  suddenly  becomes 
a  sergeant  of  the  gendarmes." 

"  But  why  the  uniform  ?  "  inquired  Volodin  reason- 
ably. 

"  Because  no  one  dares  to  appear  before  the  authorities 
without  a  uniform.    You  might  get  beaten  for  doing  it." 

Volodin  sniggered.  Peredonov  bent  over  him  closer 
and  whispered  : 

"  Sometimes  he  even  lives  in  the  shape  of  a  were- wolf. 
You  may  think  it's  simply  a  cat,  but  that's  an  error,  it's 
really  a  gendarme  running  about.  No  one  hides  from  a 
cat,  and  he  listens  to  everything  that's  said." 

At  last,  after  a  week  and  a  half,  the  Head-Master's  wife 
paid  a  visit  to  Varvara.  She  arrived  with  her  husband 
on  a  week-day  at  four  o'clock,  all  dressed  up,  attractive- 
looking,  bringing  a  perfume  of  violets  with  her — alto- 
gether unexpectedly  for  the  Peredonovs,  who  for  some 
reason  had  expected  the  Khripatches  on  a  Sunday,  earlier 
in  the  day.  They  were  dumbfounded.  Varvara  was  in 
the  kitchen  half-dressed  and  dirty.  She  rushed  away  to 
get  dressed  and  Peredonov  received  the  visitors,  looking 
as  if  he  had  been  just  awakened. 

"  Varvara  will  be  here  immediately,"  he  mumbled, 
"  she's  dressing  herself.  She  was  working — we  have  a 
new  servant  who  doesn't  understand  our  ways.  She's  a 
hopeless  fool." 

Soon  Varvara  came  in,  dressed  somehow,  with  a 
flushed,  frightened  face.  She  extended  to  her  visitors  a 
dirty,  damp  hand,  and  said  in  a  voice  trembling  with 
agitation  : 

"  You  must  forgive  me  for  keeping  you  waiting — we 
didn't  expect  you  on  a  week-day." 

269 


"  I  seldom  go  out  on  a  Sunday,"  said  Madame  Khri- 
patch.  "  Tliere  are  drunkards  in  the  street.  I  let  my 
servant-maid  have  her  day  out." 

The  conversation  somehow  started,  and  the  kindness 
of  the  Head-Master's  Avife  somewhat  encouraged  Varvara. 
Madame  Khripatch  treated  Varvara  with  a  slight  con- 
temptuousness,  but  graciously — as  with  a  repented  sinner 
who  had  to  be  treated  kindly  but  who  might  still  soil 
one's  hands.  She  gave  Varvara  several  hints,  as  if 
incidentally,  about  clothes  and  housekeeping. 

Varvara  tried  to  please  the  Head-Master's  wife,  but 
her  red  hands  and  chapped  lips  still  trembled  with  fear. 
This  embarrassed  Madame  Khripatch.  She  tried  to  be 
even  more  gracious,  but  an  involuntary  fastidiousness 
overcame  her.  By  her  whole  attitude  she  showed  Var- 
vara that  there  could  never  be  a  close  acquaintance 
between  them.  But  she  did  this  so  graciously  that 
Varvara  did  not  understand,  and  imagined  that  she  and 
Madame  Khripatch  would  become  great  friends. 

Khripatch  had  the  look  of  a  man  out  of  his  element, 
but  he  concealed  the  fact  skilfully  and  manfull}'.  He 
refused  the  Madeira  on  the  ground  that  he  was  not  used 
to  drinking  wine  at  that  hour  of  the  day.  He  talked 
about  the  local  news,  about  the  approaching  changes  in 
the  composition  of  the  district  court.  But  it  was  very 
noticeable  that  he  and  Peredonov  moved  in  different 
circles  of  local  society. 

They  did  not  make  a  long  visit.  Varvara  was  glad 
when  they  left ;  they  just  came  and  went.  She  said 
with  relief  as  she  took  off  her  clothes  : 

"  Well,  thank  God  they've  gone.  I  didn't  know  what 
to  talk  to  them  about.  When  you  don't  know  people 
you  can't  tell  how  to  get  at  them." 

Suddenly  she  remembered  that  when  the  Khripatches 
left  they  had  not  invited  her  to  their  house.  This  dis- 
tressed her  at  first,  but  afterwards  she  thought : 

"  They'll   send   a   card   with   a   note   when  to   come. 

270 


Gentry  like  them  have  a  time  for  everything.  I  suppose 
I  ought  to  have  a  go  at  French.  I  can't  even  say  '  Pa  ' 
and  '  Ma  '  in  French." 

When  they  got  home  the  Head-Master's  wife  said  to 
her  husband  : 

"  She's  simply  pitiful,  and  hopelessly  vulgar ;  it's 
utterly  impossible  to  be  on  equal  terms  with  her.  There's 
nothing  in  her  to  correspond  with  her  position." 

Khripatch  replied  : 

"  She  fully  corresponds  with  her  husband.  I'm  im- 
patiently waiting  for  them  to  take  him  away  from  us." 

After  the  wedding  Varvara  began  to  drink  now  and 
then — most  frequently  with  Grushina.  Once  when  she 
was  a  little  tipsy  Prepolovenskaya  was  at  her  house  and 
Varvara  blabbed  about  the  letter.  She  didn't  tell  every- 
thing but  she  hinted  sufficiently  clearly.  This  was 
enough  for  the  cunning  Sofya — it  was  a  sudden  revela- 
tion to  her. 

"  But  why  didn't  I  guess  it  at  once,"  she  mentally 
reproached  herself.  She  told  Vershina  in  confidence 
about  the  forged  letters — and  from  her  it  spread  all  over 
the  town. 

Prepolovenskaya  could  not  help  laughing  at  Peredonov's 
credulousness  whenever  she  met  him. 

She  said  to  him  : 
'  You're  very  simple,  Ardalyon  Borisitch." 

"  I'm  not  simple  at  all,"  he  replied,  "  I'm  a  graduate 
of  a  University." 

"  You  may  be  a  graduate,  but  anyone  who  wants  to 
can  take  you  in." 

"  I  can  take  in  everyone  myself,"  argued  Peredonov. 

Prepolovenskaya  smiled  slyly  and  left  him.  Peredonov 
was  dully  perplexed. 

"  What  does  she  mean  ?  It's  out  of  spite,"  he  thought. 
"  Everyone's  my  enemy." 

And  he  made  a  Koukish  after  her. 

271 


"  You'll  get  nothing  out  of  me,"  he  thought,  consoling 
himself,  but  he  was  tormented  by  dread. 

Her  hints  did  not  seem  very  satisfactory  to  Prepolo- 
venskaya.  But  she  did  not  want  to  tell  him  everything 
in  plain  words.  Why  should  she  quarrel  with  Varvara  ? 
From  time  to  time  she  sent  Peredonov  anonymous  letters 
in  which  the  hints  were  clearer.  But  Peredonov  mis- 
understood them. 

Sofya  once  wrote  him  : 

"  You  had  better  see  whether  that  Princess,  who  wrote 
you  the  letter,  doesn't  live  here." 

Peredonov  thought  that  perhaps  the  Princess  had 
really  come  to  the  town  to  watch  his  movements. 

"  It's  obvious,"  he  thought,  "  that  she's  in  love  with 
me  and  wants  to  get  me  away  from  Varvara." 

And  these  letters  both  frightened  and  angered  him. 
He  kept  asking  Varvara  : 

"  Where  is  the  Princess  ?  I  hear  that  she  has  come  to 
the  town." 

Varvara,  to  get  even  with  him  for  what  had  happened 
before  the  marriage,  tormented  him  with  vague  hints, 
taunts  and  half-timid,  malignant  insinuations.  She 
smiled  insolently,  and  said  to  him  in  that  strained  voice 
which  is  usually  heard  from  a  person  who  lies  knowingly 
without  the  hope  of  being  believed  : 

"  How  should  I  know  where  the  Princess  lives  now  ?  ' 

"  You're  lying — you  do  know  !  "  said  Peredonov  in 
terror. 

He  did  not  know  what  to  believe — the  meaning  of  her 
words,  or  the  lie  betrayed  in  the  sound  of  her  voice — and 
this,  like  everything  he  did  not  understand,  terrified  him. 
Varvara  retorted  : 

"  What  an  idea  !  Perhaps  she  left  Peter  for  somewhere 
else.    She  doesn't  have  to  ask  me  when  she  goes  away." 

"  But  perhaps  she  really  has  come  here  ?  '  asked 
Peredonov  timidly. 

"  Perhaps  she  really  has  come  here  !  "  Varvara  mimicked 

272 


him.  "  She's  smitten  with  you  and  she's  come  here  to 
see  you." 

"  You're  a  liar  !  Is  it  likely  that  she'd  fall  in  love 
with  me  ?  " 

Varvara  laughed  spitefully. 

From  that  time  Peredonov  began  to  look  about  atten- 
tively for  the  Princess.  Sometimes  it  seemed  to  him  that 
she  was  looking  in  at  the  window,  through  the  door, 
eavesdropping,  and  whispering  with  Varvara. 

Time  passed  by  and  the  paper,  announcing  his  appoint- 
ment as  inspector,  so  eagerly  expected  day  after  day, 
still  did  not  come.  He  had  no  private  information  of 
the  situation.  Peredonov  did  not  dare  to  find  out  from 
the  Princess  herself — Varvara  constantly  frightened  him 
by  saying  that  the  Princess  was  a  very  great  lady,  and 
he  thought  that  if  he  wrote  to  her  it  might  cause  him 
extreme  unpleasantness.  He  did  not  know  precisely 
what  they  could  do  to  him  if  the  Princess  complained  of 
him,  but  this  made  him  think  of  dreadful  possibilities. 
Varvara  said  to  him  : 

'  Don't  you  know  aristocrats  ?  You  must  wait  until 
they  act  of  themselves.  But  once  you  remind  them,  they 
get  offended,  and  it'll  be  the  worse  for  you.  They're  so 
touchy.  They're  proud,  and  they  like  to  be  taken  at  their 
word." 

And  Peredonov  was  still  credulous.  But  he  got  angry 
with  the  Princess.  Sometimes  he  even  thought  that  the 
Princess  would  inform  against  him  in  order  to  rid  herself 
of  her  obligations  to  him.  Or  else  she  would  inform 
against  him  because  he  had  married  Varvara  when 
perhaps  she  herself  was  in  love  with  him.  That  was  why 
she  had  surrounded  him  with  spies,  he  thought,  who 
kept  an  eye  on  him  everywhere.  They  had  so  hemmed 
him  in  that  he  had  no  air  to  breathe,  no  light.  She  was 
not  an  eminent  lady  for  nothing.  She  could  do  whatever 
she  liked.    From  spite  he  invented  most  unlikely  stories 

T—  LITTLE  DEMON  273 


about  the  Princess.  He  told  lloutilov  and  Volodin  that 
he  had  formerly  been  her  lover  and  that  she  had  given 
him  large  sums  of  money. 

"  But  I've  drunk  it  all  away,"  he  said.  "  Why  the 
devil  should  I  save  it  !  She  also  promised  me  a  pension 
for  life,  but  she  took  me  in  over  that." 

"  And  would  you  have  accepted  it  ?  "  asked  Routilov 
with  a  snigger. 

Peredonov  was  silent.  He  did  not  understand  the 
question.  But  Volodin  answered  for  him  gravely  and 
judiciously  : 

"  Why  not  accept  it,  if  she's  rich  ?  She's  gratified  her- 
self with  pleasures  and  she  ought  to  pay  for  them." 

"  If  she  were  at  least  a  beauty,"  said  Peredonov 
mournfully.  "  She's  freckled  and  pug-nosed.  She  paid 
very  well,  otherwise  I  wouldn't  even  want  to  spit  at  the 
hag  !    She  must  attend  to  my  request." 

"  You're  a  liar,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  said  Routilov. 

"  A  liar  !  What  an  idea  !  Do  you  suppose  she  paid 
me  for  nothing  ?  She's  jealous  of  Varvara,  and  that's 
why  she  doesn't  give  me  the  job  at  once." 

Peredonov  did  not  feel  any  shame  when  he  said  that  the 
Princess  paid  him.  Volodin  was  a  credulous  listener,  and 
did  not  notice  the  absurdities  and  contradictions  in  his 
stories.  Routilov  protested,  but  thought  that  without 
fire  there  can  be  no  smoke.  He  thought  there  must 
have  been  something  between  Peredonov  and  the  Prin- 
cess. 

"  She's  older  than  the  priest's  dog,"*  said  Peredonov 
convincingly,  as  if  it  were  to  the  point ;  "  but  see  that 
you  don't  blab  about  it,  because  it  might  come  to  her 
ears  and  do  no  good.  She  paints  herself,  and  she  tries  to 
make  herself  as  young  as  a  sucking-pig  by  injecting 
things  in  her  veins.  And  you  know  that  she's  old.  She's 
really  a  hundred." 

'  There  is  a  popular  Russian  tale  about  a  priest  who  had  a  very 
old  dog.     It  begins,  "  The  priest  had  a  dog  ..." 

274 


Volodin  nodded  his  head  and  clicked  his  tongue 
affirmatively.    He  believed  it  all. 

It  so  happened  that  on  the  day  after  this  conversation 
Peredonov  read  Krilov's  fable,  "  The  Liar."  And  for 
several  days  afterwards  he  was  afraid  to  go  over  the 
bridge,  but  crossed  the  river  in  a  boat,  for  fear  that  the 
bridge  should  tumble  down.* 

He  explained  to  Volodin  : 

"  What  I  said  about  the  Princess  was  the  truth,  only 
the  bridge  might  take  a  sudden  notion  not  to  believe  my 
story,  and  tumble  down  to  the  devil." 

*  Krilov's  fable  is  of  a  returned  traveller  who  tells  his  friend  at 
home  about  a  cucumber  he  saw  at  Rome  as  large  as  a  mountain. 
The  incredulous  friend  tells  him  about  one  of  the  home  wonders — a 
bridge  which  tumbles  every  liar  who  attempts  to  cross  it  into  the 
river.  The  traveller  gradually  reduces  the  size  of  the  cucumber,  but 
even  then  he  finally  suggests  that  they  find  a  place  where  they  might 
ford  the  stream. 


275 


CHAPTER   XXV 

Rumours  of  the  forged  letters  spread  about  the  town. 
Conversations  about  them  preoccupied  the  townsmen 
and  gave  them  great  pleasure.  Nearly  everyone  took 
Varvara's  part  and  was  glad  that  Peredonov  had  been 
made  a  fool  of.  And  all  those  who  had  seen  the  letters 
asserted  as  with  one  voice  that  they  had  guessed  it  at 
once.  Especially  great  was  the  rejoicing  in  Vershina's 
house  :  Marta,  though  she  was  going  to  marry  Mourin, 
had  nevertheless  been  rejected  by  Peredonov  ;  Vcrshina 
wanted  Mourin  for  herself  but  she  had  to  yield  him  to 
Marta ;  Vladya  had  his  obvious  reasons  for  hating 
Peredonov  and  for  rejoicing  at  his  discomfiture.  Though 
he  felt  vexed  to  think  that  Peredonov  would  remain  at 
the  gymnasia,  still  this  vexation  was  outweighed  by  his 
pleasure  at  the  fact  that  Peredonov  had  been  let  down 
badly.  And  besides  this,  during  the  last  few  days  there 
was  a  persistent  rumour  that  the  Head-Master  had 
informed  the  Director  of  the  National  Schools  that 
Peredonov  was  out  of  his  mind.  And  someone  was 
going  to  be  sent  to  examine  him,  after  which  he  would 
be  taken  away. 

Whenever  her  acquaintances  met  Varvara  they  would 
refer  more  or  less  openly  to  her  stratagem,  accompanying 
their  words  with  coarse  jokes  and  impudent  winks. 
She  Avould  smile  insolently  and  would  not  admit  it, 
but  she  did  not  deny  it. 

Others  hinted  to  Grushina  that  they  knew  of  her 
share  in  the  forgery.  She  was  frightened  and  came  to 
Varvara,  reproaching  her  for  gossiping  too  much.  Var- 
vara said  to,  her  with  a  smile  : 

276 


"  Now,  don't  make  such  a  fuss.  I  never  had  the  least 
intention  of  telling  anyone." 

"  How  did  they  find  it  out  then  ?  "  asked  Grushina 
hotly.  "  Of  course  I  shouldn't  tell  anyone,  I'm  not  such 
a  fool." 

"  And  I  haven't  told  anyone,"  asserted  Varvara. 

"  I  want  the  letter  back,"  demanded  Grushina,  "  or 
else  he'll  begin  to  look  at  it  closely  and  he'll  recognise 
from  the  handwriting  that  it's  a  forgery." 

"Well,  let  him  find  out!"  said  Varvara.  "Why 
should  I  stop  to  consider  a  fool  ?  " 

Grushina' s  eyes  gleamed  and  she  shouted  : 

"  It's  all  very  well  for  you  who've  got  all  you  wanted, 
but  I  might  be  jailed  on  your  account  !  No,  I  must 
have  that  letter,  whatever  you  do.  Because  they  can 
unmarry  you  as  well,  you  know." 

"  That's  all  nonsense,"  replied  Varvara  with  her  arms 
insolently  akimbo.  "  You  might  announce  it  in  the 
market-place,  but  you  couldn't  undo  the  marriage." 

"  Not  nonsense  at  all,"  shouted  Grushina.  "  There 
is  no  law  that  permits  you  to  marry  through  deception. 
If  Ardalyon  Borisitch  should  let  the  authorities  know 
about  this  affair  and  the  affair  went  up  to  the  Higher 
Court  they'd  settle  your  hash  for  you." 

Varvara  got  frightened  and  said  : 

"  Now  don't  be  angry — I'll  get  you  the  letter.  There's 
nothing  to  be  afraid  of — I'll  not  give  you  away.  I'm 
not  such  a  beast  as  all  that.    I've  got  a  soul  too." 

"  What's  a  soul  got  to  do  with  it  ?  "  said  Grushina 
harshly.  "  A  dog  and  a  man  have  the  same  breath,  but 
there  is  no  soul.    You  live  while  you  live." 

Varvara  decided  to  steal  the  letter,  though  this  was 
difficult.  Grushina  urged  her  to  hurry.  There  was  'one 
hope — to  take  the  letter  from  Peredonov  when  he  was 
drunk.  And  he  drank  a  great  deal  now.  He  had 
even  not  infrequently  appeared  at  the  gymnasia  in  a 
rather  tipsy  state  and  had   made    unpleasant  remarks 

277 


which  had  aroused  repugnance  in  even  the  worst  of  the 
boys. 

Once  Percdonov  returned  from  the  billiard  saloon  more 
drunk  than  usual  :  they  had  baptised  the  new  billiard 
balls.  But  he  never  let  go  of  his  wallet.  As  he  managed 
to  undress  somehow,  he  stuck  it  under  his  pillow.  He 
slept  restlessly  but  profoundly,  and  during  his  sleep  his 
mind  wandered  and  he  babbled  about  something  terrible 
and  monstrous.  And  these  words  inspired  Varvara  with 
a  painful  apprehension. 

"  Well,  it's  nothing,"  she  encouraged  herself.  "  So 
long  as  he  doesn't  wake  up." 

She  had  tried  to  waken  him.  She  nudged  him — he  only 
muttered  something  and  cursed  violently,  but  did  not 
awaken.  Varvara  lit  a  candle  and  placed  it  so  that  the 
light  should  not  fall  into  Percdonov's  eyes.  Numb  with 
terror,  she  rose  in  the  bed  and  slipped  her  hand  under 
Percdonov's  pillow.  The  wallet  was  quite  close  but  for 
a  long  time  it  seemed  to  elude  her  fingers.  The  candle 
burned  dimly.  Its  light  wavered.  Timorous  shadows 
ran  on  the  walls  and  on  the  bed — evil  little  devils  flashed 
by.  The  air  was  close  and  motionless.  There  was  a 
smell  of  badly-distilled  vodka.  Percdonov's  snores  and 
drunken  ravings  filled  the  bedroom.  The  whole  place 
was  like  the  incarnation  of  a  nightmare. 

Varvara  took  the  letter  with  trembling  hands  and 
replaced  the  wallet.  In  the  morning  Pcredonov  looked 
for  his  letter,  failed  to  find  it,  and  shouted  in  a  fright  : 

"  Where's  the  letter,  Varya  ?  " 

Varvara  felt  very  much  afraid  but  concealed  it  and 
said  : 

"  How  should  I  know,  Ardalyon  Borisitch  ?  You  keep 
showing  it  to  everyone,  you  must  have  dropped  it.  Or 
else  someone  has  stolen  it  from  you.  You  have  a  lot  of 
friends  and  acquaintances  that  you  get  drunk  with  at 
night." 

278 


Peredonov  thought  that  the  letter  had  been  stolen 
by  his  enemies,  most  likely  by  Volodin.  The  letter  was 
now  in  Volodin's  hands  and  later  he  would  get  the  other 
papers  and  the  appointment  into  his  clutches,  and  he 
would  go  away  to  his  inspectorship  while  Peredonov 
remained  a  disappointed  beggar. 

Peredonov  decided  that  he  must  defend  himself.  Every 
day  he  wrote  denunciations  of  his  enemies  :  Vershina, 
the  Routilovs,  Volodin,  his  colleagues,  who,  it  seemed 
to  him,  had  their  eye  on  the  same  position.  In  the 
evening  he  would  take  these  denunciations  to  Roubovsky. 

The  Officer  of  the  gendarmerie  lived  in  a  prominent 
place  on  the  square  near  the  gymnasia.  Many  people 
observed  from  their  windows  how  often  Peredonov 
entered  the   gates   of  the   Officer   of    the    gendarmerie. 

But  Peredonov  thought  that  he  was  unobserved.  He 
had  good  reason  to  take  these  denunciations  at  night, 
by  the  back  way  through  the  kitchen. 

He  kept  the  papers  under  his  coat.  It  was  noticeable 
at  once  that  he  was  holding  something.  When  it  happened 
that  he  had  to  take  his  hand  out  to  shake  hands  with 
someone,  he  clutched  the  papers  under  his  coat  with  his 
left  hand,  and  imagined  that  no  one  would  guess  that 
anything  was  there.  When  his  acquaintances  asked  him 
where  he  was  going  he  lied  to  them  very  clumsily,  but 
was  very  satisfied  himself  with  his  awkward  inventions. 

He  explained  to  Roubovsky  : 

"  They're  all  traitors.  They  pretend  to  be  your  friends 
so  as  to  be  more  certain  of  deceiving  you.  But  none  of 
them  stop  to  think  that  I  know  things  about  them  that 
would  send  them  all  to  Siberia." 

Roubovsky  listened  to  him  in  silence.  The  first 
denunciation,  which  was  patently  absurd,  he  sent  to  the 
Head-Master,  and  he  did  the  same  thing  with  several 
others.  He  kept  certain  others  in  case  he  should  need 
them.    The  Head-Master  wrote  to  the  Director  of  National 

279 


Schools  that  Pcredonov  was  showing  clear  symptoms  of 
mental  disease. 

At  home  Pcredonov  constantly  heard  ceaseless,  exas- 
perating and  mocking  rustlings.  He  said  to  Varvara 
dejectedly  : 

"  Someone's  walking  about  on  tip-toe.  There  are  so 
many  spies  in  the  house,  jostling  each  other.  Vary  a, 
you're  not  taking  care  of  me." 

Varvara  did  not  understand  the  meaning  of  Peredonov's 
ravings.  At  one  time  she  taunted  him,  at  another  she 
felt  afraid.  She  said  to  him  malignantly  and  yet  with 
fear  : 

"  You  see  all  sorts  of  things  when  you're  drunk." 

The  door  to  the  hall  seemed  especially  suspicious  to 
Peredonov.  It  did  not  close  tightly.  The  crevice  between 
the  two  halves  hinted  at  something  that  was  hiding 
outside.  Wasn't  it  the  knave  who  was  peeping  through 
it  ?     Someone's  evil,  penetrating  eye  gleamed  behind  it. 

The  cat  followed  Peredonov  everywhere  with  its  wide, 
green  eyes.  Sometimes  it  blinked  its  eyes,  sometimes  it 
mewed  fearfully.  It  was  obvious  that  the  animal  wanted 
to  catch  Peredonov  at  something,  but  it  could  not  and 
was  therefore  angry.  Peredonov  exorcised  the  cat  by 
spitting,  but  the  cat  remained  unmoved. 

The  nedotikomka  ran  under  the  chair  and  in  the  corners, 
and  squealed.  It  was  dirty,  evil-smelling,  repulsive  and 
terrifying.  It  was  already  quite  clear  that  it  was  hostile 
to  Peredonov,  and  rolled  in  entirely  on  his  account,  and 
that  it  had  not  existed  anywhere  before.  It  had  been 
created — and  it  had  been  bewitched.  And  this  evil, 
many-eyed  beast  lived  here  to  his  dread  and  to  his  perdi- 
tion— followed  him,  deceived  him,  laughed  at  him — now 
rolled  upon  the  floor,  now  turned  into  a  rag,  a  ribbon, 
a  twig,  a  flag,  a  small  cloud,  a  little  dog,  a  pillar  of  dust 
in  the  street,  and  everywhere  it  crawled  and  ran  after 
Peredonov.  It  harassed  him,  it  wearied  him  with  its 
vacillating  dance.     If  only  someone  would  deliver  him 

280 


from  it,  with  a  word  or  with  a  downright  blow.  But  he 
had  no  friends  here,  there  was  no  one  to  come  to  save 
him.  He  must  use  his  own  cunning  or  the  malicious 
beast  would  ruin  him. 

Peredonov  thought  of  a  device.  He  smeared  the  entire 
floor  with  glue  so  that  the  nedotikomka  should  get  stuck. 
What  did  stick  to  the  floor  was  the  soles  of  Varvara's 
shoes  and  the  hems  of  her  dress,  but  the  nedotikomka 
rolled  on  freely  and  laughed  shrilly.  Varvara  abused 
him  loudly. 

Persistent  suspicions  of  being  under  constant  persecu- 
tion frightened  him.  More  and  more  be  became  immersed 
in  a  world  of  wild  illusions.  This  reflected  itself  in  his 
face,  which  became  a  motionless  mask  of  terror. 

In  the  evenings  Peredonov  no  longer  went  to  play 
billiards.  After  dinner  he  shut  himself  in  his  bedroom, 
barricaded  the  room  with  various  objects — a  chair  upon 
a  table — and  very  carefully  surrounded  himself  with 
crosses  and  exorcisms  and  sat  down  to  write  denunciations 
against  everyone  he  could  think  of.  Pie  wrote  denuncia- 
tions not  only  against  people  but  against  playing-card 
queens.  As  soon  as  he  had  written  one  he  would  take 
it  immediately  to  the  Officer  of  the  gendarmerie.  And  in 
this  way  he  spent  every  evening. 

Everywhere  card-figures  walked  before  Peredonov's 
eyes,  as  if  they  were  alive — kings,  queens  and  knaves. 
Even  the  other  cards  walked  about.  These  consisted  of 
people  with  silver  buttons  :  schoolboys  and  policemen. 
There  was  the  ace  of  spades — stout,  with  a  protruding 
stomach,  almost  entirely  stomach.  Sometimes  the  cards 
became  transformed  into  his  acquaintances.  Living 
people  were  mixed  up  with  these  strange  phantasms. 

Peredonov  was  convinced  that  a  knave  was  standing 
behind  the  door  and  that  he  had  strength  and  power — 
something  like  a  policeman's — and  that  he  could  take 
you  away  somewhere  to  some  terrible  jail.     Under  the 

281 


table  sat  the  nedotikomka.     And  Peredonov  was  afraid 
to  glance  either  under  the  table  or  behind  the  door. 

The  nimble  eights  of  the  pack,  like  little  boys,  mocked 
at  Peredonov — these  were  the  phantasms  of  schoolboys. 
They  lifted  their  legs  with  strange,  stiff  movements,  like 
the  legs  of  a  compass,  but  their  legs  were  shaggy  and 
with  hoofs.  Instead  of  tails  they  had  whipping  rods, 
which  they  swung  with  a  swish,  and  at  each  flourish  they 
gave  a  squeak.  The  nedotikomka  grunted  from  under 
the  table,  and  laughed  at  the  play  of  these  eights.  Pere- 
donov thought  with  rage  that  the  nedotikomka  would  not 
have  dared  to  come  to  an  official. 

"  They  surely  wouldn't  let  it  in,"  he  thought  enviously. 
"  The  lackeys  would  drive  it  out  with  their  mops."  At 
last  Peredonov  could  no  longer  stand  its  evil,  insolently 
shrill  laughter.  He  brought  an  axe  from  the  kitchen  and 
he  split  the  table  under  which  the  nedotikomka  was 
hiding.  The  nedotikomka  squeaked  piteously  and 
furiously.  It  dashed  out  from  under  the  table  and  rolled 
away.  Peredonov  trembled.  "  It  might  bite,"  he  thought, 
and  screamed  with  terror  and  sat  down,  but  the  nedoti- 
komka hid  itself  peacefully.    Not  for  long.  .  .  . 

Sometimes  Peredonov  took  the  cards  and  with  a 
ferocious  expression  on  his  face  cut  the  heads  off  the 
court  cards.  Especially  those  of  the  queens.  In  cutting 
the  kings,  he  glanced  around  him  so  as  not  to  be  detected 
and  not  to  be  accused  of  a  political  crime.  But  even 
these  executions  did  not  help  for  long.  Visitors  came, 
cards  were  brought  and  evil  spies  again  took  possession 
of  the  cards. 

Peredonov  already  began  to  consider  himself  a  secret 
criminal.  He  imagined  that  even  from  his  student  days 
he  had  been  under  the  surveillance  of  the  police.  For 
some  reason  he  thought  that  they  were  watching  him. 
This  terrified  and  yet  flattered  him. 

The  wind  stirred  the  wall-paper.  It  shook  with  a 
quiet,  evil  rustling.     And  soft  half -shadows  glided  over 

282 


their  vividly  coloured  patterns.  "  There's  a  spy  hiding 
behind  the  wall-paper,"  thought  Peredonov  sadly.  "  Evil 
people  !  No  wonder  they  put  the  paper  on  the  wall  so 
unevenly  and  so  poorly,  for  a  skilful,  patient,  flat  villain 
to  creep  in  and  hide  behind.  Such  things  have  happened 
even  before." 

Confused  recollections  stirred  in  his  mind.  Someone 
had  hidden  behind  the  wall-paper  ;  someone  had  been 
stabbed  either  with  a  poignard  or  an  awl.  Peredonov 
bought  an  awl.  And  when  he  returned  home  the  wall- 
paper stirred  unevenly  and  restlessly — a  spy  felt  his 
danger  and  was  perhaps  trying  to  creep  in  farther.  A 
shadow  jumped  to  the  ceiling  and  there  threatened  and 
grimaced. 

Peredonov  was  infuriated.  He  struck  the  wall-paper 
impetuously  with  the  awl.  A  shiver  ran  over  the  wall. 
Peredonov  began  to  sing  triumphantly  and  to  dance, 
brandishing  the  awl.    Varvara  came  in. 

"  Why  are  you  dancing  by  yourself,  Ardalyon  Boris- 
itch  ?  '  she  asked,  smiling  stupidly  and  insolently  as 
always. 

"  I've  killed  a  beetle,"  explained  Peredonov  morosely. 

His  eyes  gleamed  in  wild  triumph.  Only  one  thing 
annoyed  him ;  the  disagreeable  odour.  The  murdered 
spy  stank  putridly  behind  the  wall-paper.  Horror  and 
triumph  shook  Peredonov — he  had  killed  an  enemy  ! 
He  had  hardened  his  heart  to  the  very  end  of  the  deed. 
It  was  not  a  real  murder — but  for  Peredonov  it  was  quite 
real.  A  mad  horror  had  forged  in  him  a  readiness  to 
commit  the  crime — and  the  deep,  unconscious  image  of 
future  murder,  dormant  in  the  lower  strata  of  spiritual 
life,  the  tormenting  itch  to  murder,  a  condition  of  primi- 
tive wrath,  oppressed  his  diseased  will.  The  ancient 
Cain — overlaid  by  many  generations — found  gratification 
in  his  breaking  and  damaging  property,  in  his  chopping 
with  the  axe,  in  his  cutting  with  the  knife,  in  his  cutting 
down  trees  in  the  garden  to  prevent  the  spies  from  looking 

283 


out  behind  them.  And  the  ancient  demon,  the  spirit  of 
prehistoric  confusion,  of  hoary  chaos,  rejoiced  in  the 
destruction  of  things,  while  the  wild  eyes  of  the  madman 
reflected  horror,  like  the  horror  of  the  death  agonies  of 
some  monster. 

And  the  same  illusions  tormented  him  again  and  again. 
Varvara,  amusing  herself  at  Peredonov's  expense,  some- 
times hid  herself  behind  the  door  of  the  room  where  he 
was  sitting,  and  talked  in  assumed  voices.  He  would  get 
frightened,  walk  up  quietly  to  catch  the  enemy — and 
find  Varvara. 

"  Whom  were  you  whispering  to  ?  "  he  asked  sadly. 

Varvara  smiled  and  replied  : 

"  It  only  seemed  to  you,  Ardalyon  Borisitch." 

"  Surely  everything  doesn't  merely  seem  to  me," 
muttered  Peredonov  sadly.  "  There  must  be  also  truth 
upon  the  earth." 

Even  Peredonov,  in  common  with  all  conscious  life, 
strove  towards  the  truth,  and  this  striving  tortured  him. 
He  was  not  conscious  that  he,  like  all  people,  was  striving 
towards  the  truth,  and  that  was  why  he  suffered  this 
confused  restlessness.  He  could  not  find  the  truth  he 
sought,  and  he  was  caught  in  the  toils  and  was  perish- 
ing. 

His  acquaintances  began  to  taunt  him  with  being  a 
dupe.  With  the  usual  cruelty  of  our  town  towards  the 
weak,  they  talked  of  this  deception  in  his  presence. 
Prepolovenskaya  asked  with  a  derisive  smile  : 

'  How  is  it,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,  that  you  haven't  gone 
away  to  your  inspector's  job  yet  ?  " 

Varvara  answered  for  him  with  suppressed  anger  : 

'  We  shall  get  the  paper  soon,  and  we  shall  leave  at 
once." 

But  these  questions  depressed  him. 

'  How  can  I  live,  if  the  place  isn't  given  to  me  ?  "  he 
thought. 

284 


He  kept  devising  new  plans  of  defence  against  his 
enemies.  He  stole  the  axe  from  the  kitchen  and  hid  it 
under  the  bed.  He  bought  a  Swedish  knife  and  always 
carried  it  about  in  his  pocket.  He  frequently  locked 
himself  in  his  room.  At  night  he  put  traps  around  the 
house  and  in  the  rooms  and  later  he  would  examine 
them.  These  traps  were,  of  course,  so  constructed  that 
they  could  not  catch  anyone.  They  gripped  but  could 
not  hold  anyone,  and  it  was  easy  to  walk  away  with 
them.  But  Peredonov  had  no  technical  knowledge  and 
no  common  sense.  When  he  saw  each  morning  that  no 
one  was  caught  Peredonov  imagined  that  his  enemies 
had  tampered  with  the  traps.  This  again  frightened 
him. 

Peredonov  watched  Volodin  with  special  attention. 
He  frequently  went  to  Volodin  when  he  knew  that  Volodin 
would  not  be  at  home  and  rummaged  among  the  papers 
to  see  if  there  were  any  stolen  from  himself. 

Peredonov  began  to  suspect  what  the  Princess  wanted 
— it  was  that  he  should  love  her  again.  She  was  repugnant 
to  him,  a  decrepit  old  woman. 

"  She's  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  old,"  he  thought  with 
vexation.  "  Yes,  she's  old,  but  then  how  powerful  she 
is  !  "  And  his  repulsion  became  mingled  with  an  allure- 
ment. "  She's  an  almost  cold  little  old  woman,  she  smells 
slightly  of  a  corpse,"  he  imagined,  and  he  felt  faint  with 
a  savage  voluptuousness. 

"  Perhaps  it  would  be  possible  to  arrange  a  meeting, 
and  her  heart  would  be  touched.  Oughtn't  I  to  send  her 
a  letter  ?  " 

This  time  Peredonov,  with  slight  hesitation,  composed 
a  letter  to  the  Princess.    He  wrote  : 

"  I  love  you,  because  you  are  cold  and  remote.  Var- 
vara  perspires,  it  is  hot  to  sleep  with  her,  it  is  like  the 
breath  of  an  oven.  I  would  like  to  have  a  cold  and 
remote  love.    Come  here  and  respond  to  me." 

285 


He  wrote  it  and  posted  it — and  then  repented. 

"  What  will  come  of  it  ?  "  he  thought.  "  Perhaps  I 
ought  not  to  have  written.  I  should  have  waited  until 
the  Princess  came  here." 

This  letter  was  an  accidental  occurrence,  like  so  much 
that  Peredonov  did — he  was  like  a  corpse  moved  by 
external  powers,  and  moved  as  if  these  powers  had  no 
desire  to  busy  themselves  with  him  for  long  :  one  would 
play  with  him  and  then  cast  him  to  another. 

Soon  the  nedotikomka  reappeared — for  a  long  time  it 
rolled  around  Peredonov  as  if  it  were  on  the  end  of  a 
lasso,  and  kept  mocking  him.  And  it  was  now  noiseless, 
and  laughed  only  with  a  shaking  of  its  body.  The  evil, 
shameless  beast  flared  up  with  dimly  golden  sparks — it 
threatened  and  burned  with  an  intolerable  triumph. 
And  the  cat  threatened  Peredonov ;  its  eyes  gleamed 
and  it  mewed  arrogantly  and  fiercely. 

"  Why  are  they  so  glad  ?  "  thought  Peredonov  de- 
jectedly, and  suddenly  understood  that  the  end  was 
approaching,  that  the  Princess  was  already  here,  close, 
quite  close.  Perhaps  she  was  in  this  verjr  pack  of 
cards. 

Yes,  undoubtedly  she  was  the  queen  of  spades  or  the 
queen  of  hearts.  Perhaps  she  was  hiding  in  another  pack, 
or  in  other  cards,  but  he  did  not  know  what  she  looked 
like.  The  difficulty  was  that  Peredonov  had  never  seen 
her.  It  would  be  useless  to  ask  Varvara — she  would  tell 
lies. 

At  last  Peredonov  thought  he  would  burn  the  whole 
pack.  Let  them  all  burn  !  If  they  creep  into  the  cards 
to  his  ruin,  then  it's  their  own  fault. 

Peredonov  chose  a  time  when  Varvara  was  not  at 
home.  The  stove  in  the  parlour  was  alight — and  he 
threw  all  the  cards  into  the  stove.  With  a  crackling  the 
marvellous  pale  red  flowers  opened  out — they  burned 
but  were  black  at  the  edges.  Peredonov  looked  in  horror 
at  these  flaming  blossoms. 

286 


The  cards  contracted,  bent  over  and  moved  as  if  they 
were  trying  to  escape  from  the  stove. 

Peredonov  caught  hold  of  the  poker  and  began  to 
beat  the  lighted  cards  with  it.  There  was  a  shower  of 
tiny  bright  sparks  on  all  sides — and  suddenly  in  a  bright, 
wild  riot  of  sparks  the  Princess  rose  out  of  the  fire,  a 
little  ash-grey  woman,  bestrewn  with  small  dying  sparks  ; 
she  wailed  piercingly  in  her  shrill  voice  and  hissed  and 
spit  on  the  flames. 

Peredonov  fell  backward.  He  cried  out  in  horror. 
The  darkness  embraced  him,  tickled  him,  and  laughed 
with  a  thousand  jarring  little  noises. 


287 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

Sasiia  was  fascinated  by  Liudmilla,  but  something 
prevented  him  from  talking  about  her  to  Kokovkina. 
He  felt  somehow  ashamed,  and  sometimes  he  came  to 
be  afraid  of  her  visits.  His  heart  would  feel  faint  and 
his  eyebrows  contract  involuntarily  when  he  saw  her 
rose-yellow  hat  pass  quickly  under  his  window.  Never- 
theless he  awaited  her  with  anxiety  and  impatience — 
he  was  sad  when  she  did  not  come  for  a  long  time.  Con- 
tradictory feelings  were  mingled  in  his  soul,  feelings  dark 
and  vague — morbid  because  premature,  and  sweet  be- 
cause morbid. 

Liudmilla  had  called  neither  yesterday  nor  to-day. 
Sasha  exhausted  himself  with  waiting  and  had  already 
ceased  to  expect  her.  Suddenly  she  came.  He  grew 
radiant  and  rushed  forward  to  kiss  her  hand. 

"  Well,  have  you  forgotten  me  ?  "  he  reproached  her. 
"  I  haven't  seen  you  for  two  days." 

She  laughed  happily  and  a  sweet,  languid  and  piquant 
odour  of  Japanese  funkia  emanated  from  her,  as  if  it 
came  from  her  light  hair.  Liudmilla  and  Sasha  went  out 
for  a  walk  in  the  town.  They  invited  Kokovkina  but 
she  would  not  go. 

"  How  could  an  old  woman  like  me  go  out  with  you  ? 
I'd  only  get  in  your  way.  You'd  better  go  out  by  your- 
selves." 

"  But  we'll  get  into  mischief,"  laughed  Liudmilla. 

The  warm,  languid  air  caressed  them  and  called  to 
remembrance  the  irrevocable.  The  sun,  as  if  diseased, 
burned  dimly  and  lividly  in  the  pale,  tired  sky.  The  dry 
leaves  lay  humbly  on  the  dark  earth,  dead. 

288 


Liudmilla  and  Sasha  went  into  a  hollow.  It  was  cool, 
refreshing,  almost  damp  there — a  tender  autumn  weari- 
ness reigned  there  within  its  shady  slopes. 

Liudmilla  walked  in  front.  She  lifted  her  skirt.  She 
showed  her  small  shoes  and  flesh-coloured  stockings. 
Sasha  looked  on  the  ground,  so  as  not  to  stumble  over 
roots,  and  saw  the  stockings.  It  seemed  to  him  that  she 
had  put  on  shoes  without  stockings.  He  flushed.  He 
felt  giddy. 

"  If  only  I  could  fall  suddenly  before  her,"  he  thought, 
"  snatch  off  her  shoes,  and  kiss  her  delicate  feet !  " 

Liudmilla  instinctively  felt  Sasha's  passionate  glance, 
his  impatient  desire.  She  laughed  and  turned  to  him 
with  a  question  : 

"  Are  you  looking  at  my  stockings  ?  " 

"  No,  I — er "  mumbled  Sasha  in  confusion. 

"  What  dreadful  stockings  I've  got  on,"  said  Liud- 
milla laughing  and  not  listening  to  him.  "  It  almost 
looks  as  if  I  had  put  my  shoes  on  my  bare  feet — they're 
absolutely  flesh-coloured.  Don't  you  think  they're 
dreadfully  ridiculous  stockings  ?  " 

She  turned  her  face  to  Sasha  and  lifted  the  hem  of  her 
dress. 

"  Aren't  they  ridiculous  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,  they're  beautiful,"  said  Sasha,  red  with  embar- 
rassment. 

Liudmilla  pretended  to  be  surprised,  raised  her  eye- 
brows and  exclaimed  : 

"  And  what  do  you  know  about  beauty  ?  " 

Liudmilla  laughed  and  walked  on.  Sasha,  burning  with 
confusion,  walked  uneasily  after  her,  stumbling  frequently. 

They  managed  to  get  through  the  hollow.  They  sat 
down  on  a  birch  trunk  thrown  down  by  the  wind.  Liud- 
milla said  : 

"  My  shoes  are  full  of  sand.    I  can't  go  on  any  further." 

She  took  off  her  shoes,  shook  out  the  sand  and  looked 
archly  at  Sasha. 

U— LITTLE   DEMON  289 


"  Do  you  think  it's  a  pretty  foot  ?  "  she  asked. 

Sasha  flushed  even  more  and  did  not  know  what  to  say. 
Liudmilla  pulled  off  her  stockings. 

"  Don't  you  think  they're  very  white  feet  ?  '  she 
asked  and  smiled  strangely  and  eoquettishly.  '  Down 
on  your  knees  !  Kiss  them  !  "  she  said  severely,  and  a 
commanding  severity  showed  on  her  face. 

Sasha  went  down  on  his  knees  quickly  and  kissed 
Liudmilla's  feet. 

"  It's  much  nicer  without  stockings,"  said  Liudmilla 
as  she  placed  her  stockings  in  her  pocket  and  stuck  her 
feet  into  her  shoes.  And  her  face  again  became  gay  and 
calm  as  if  Sasha  had  not  just  been  on  his  knees  before  her, 
kissing  her  naked  feet. 

Sasha  asked  : 

"  Won't  you  catch  cold,  dear  ?  " 

His  voice  sounded  tender  and  tremulous.  Liudmilla 
laughed. 

"  What  a  notion  !  I'm  used  to  it.  I'm  not  so  delicate 
as  that." 

Liudmilla  once  came  to  Kokovkina's  just  before  dusk 
and  called  Sasha  : 

"  Come  and  help  me  put  up  a  new  shelf." 
Sasha  loved  to  knock  nails  in,  and  somehow  he  had 
promised  to  help  Liudmilla  in  arranging  her  room.  And 
now  he  eagerly  consented,  glad  that  there  was  an  inno- 
cent pretext  to  go  to  Liudmilla's  house.  And  now  the 
innocent,  pungent  odour  of  essence  of  muguet  blew  from 
Liudmilla's  greenish  dress  and  gently  soothed  him. 

For  the  work  Liudmilla  redressed  herself  behind  a 
screen,  and  came  out  to  Sasha  in  a  short,  spruce  skirt, 
and  short  sleeves,  perfumed  with  the  pleasant,  languid, 
pungent  Japanese  funkia. 

"  Oh,  but  how  spruced  up  you  are  !  "  said  Sasha. 

"  Yes,  I  am,"  said  Liudmilla  laughing.     "  Look,  my 

290 


feet  are  bare,"  she  said,  drawling  out  her  words  in  a  half- 
ashamed,  half-provoking  way. 

Sasha  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  said  : 

"  You're  always  spruce.  Well,  let's  begin  to  work. 
Have  you  got  any  nails  ?  " 

"  Wait  a  bit,"  replied  Liudmilla.  "  Sit  still  a  moment 
with  me.  You  seem  as  if  you  had  come  on  business  and 
found  it  a  bore  to  talk  to  me." 

Sasha  flushed  and  said  tenderly  : 

"  Dear  Liudmillotchka,  I  would  like  to  sit  with  you 
as  long  as  you  want,  until  you  drove  me  out,  but  I've 
got  my  lessons  to  do." 

Liudmilla  sighed  and  said  slowly  : 

"  You're  getting  handsomer,  Sasha." 

Sasha  reddened,  laughed  and  protruded  the  end  of 
his  curled-up  tongue. 

'  What  a  thing  to  say  !    You  might  think  I  was  a  girl 
from  the  way  you  talk." 

"  A  beautiful  face,  but  what  kind  of  body  ?  You 
might  show  it,  at  least  to  the  waist,"  entreated  Liudmilla 
caressingly,  and  put  her  arm  round  his  shoulder. 

"  What  an  idea  !  "  said  Sasha,  ashamed  and  vexed  at 
the  same  time. 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter  ?  "  asked  Liudmilla  in  a 
different  voice.    "  What  have  you  got  to  hide  ?  " 

"  Someone  might  come,"  said  Sasha. 

'  Who'll  come  in  ?  "  said  Liudmilla  as  gaily  and 
carelessly  as  before. 

"  We  can  lock  the  door  and  then  no  one  will  come  in." 

Liudmilla  walked  quickly  up  to  the  door  and  bolted  it. 
Sasha  felt  that  Liudmilla  was  serious.  He  flushed  so 
deeply  that  little  drops  of  perspiration  came  out  on  his 
forehead  and  he  said  : 

"  We  oughtn't  to  do  it,  Liudmillotchka." 

"  Stupid  !  Why  not  ?  "  asked  Liudmilla  in  a  persuasive 
voice. 

She  pulled  Sasha  to  her  and  began  to  undo  his  blouse. 

291 


Sasha  resisted  and  caught  her  wrists.  His  face  looked 
frightened — and  an  equal  shame  possessed  him,  and 
these  emotions  made  him  feel  suddenly  weak.  Liudmilla 
contracted  her  eyebrows  and  began  to  undress  him 
determinedly.  She  took  off  his  belt  and  somehow  pulled 
off  his  blouse.  Sasha  resisted  more  and  more  des- 
perately. They  tussled  with  each  other  about  the  room, 
stumbling  against  tables  and  chairs.  A  pungent  scent 
came  from  Liudmilla,  intoxicated  Sasha  and  weakened 
him. 

With  a  quick  thrust  against  his  chest  Liudmilla  pushed 
Sasha  on  to  the  sofa.  A  button  flew  off  from  the  shirt 
she  was  pulling  at.  Liudmilla  bared  Sasha's  shoulder, 
and  began  to  pull  his  arm  out  of  the  sleeve.  Sasha 
resisted  and  accidcntly  struck  Liudmilla's  cheek  with  his 
hand.  He  did  not  want  to  strike  her,  but  the  blow  fell 
hard  on  Liudmilla's  cheek.  Liudmilla  shook,  staggered, 
her  cheeks  went  a  violent  red,  but  she  did  not  let  go  of 
Sasha. 

"  You  wicked  boy  to  fight  !  "  she  exclaimed  in  a 
choking  voice. 

Sasha  felt  distressed,  dropped  his  arms  and  looked 
guiltily  at  the  white  marks  of  his  fingers  on  Liudmilla's 
left  cheek.  Liudmilla  took  advantage  of  his  confusion. 
She  quickly  pulled  the  shirt  from  both  shoulders  to  his 
elbows.  Sasha  recovered  himself,  tried  to  get  away  from 
her  but  only  made  things  worse — Liudmilla  pulled  the 
sleeves  off  his  arms  and  his  shirt  fell  doAvn  to  his  waist. 
Sasha  felt  cold,  and  a  new  flood  of  shame,  hard  and  piti- 
less, made  his  head  whirl.  He  was  now  naked  to  the  waist. 
Liudmilla  held  his  arms  tightly  and  patted  his  back  with 
her  trembling  hand,  looking  at  the  same  time  into  his 
downcast,  strangely  gleaming  eyes  under  their  blue- 
black  eyebrows. 

Suddenly  these  eyelashes  trembled,  his  face  was 
wrinkled  by  a  pitiful,  childish  grimace,  and  he  began  to 
sob. 

292 


'  You  wicked  girl !  "  he  exclaimed  in  a  sobbing  voice. 
"  Let  me  go  !  " 

''  Cry-baby  !  "  said  Liudmilla  angrily,  and  pushed  him 
away. 

Sasha  turned  away,  drying  his  tears  on  the  palms  of  his 
hands.  He  felt  ashamed  because  he  was  crying.  He 
tried  to  hold  back  his  tears.  Liudmilla  looked  eagerly  at 
his  naked  back. 

''  How  much  beauty  there  is  in  the  world !  "  she 
thought.  "  People  hide  so  much  beauty  from  themselves. 
Why  ?  " 

Sasha,  shrinking  ashamedly  with  his  naked  shoulders, 
tried  to  put  on  his  shirt,  but  it  only  became  entangled  in 
his  trembling  hands  and  he  could  not  get  his  arms  into 
the  sleeves.  Sasha  caught  hold  of  his  blouse — let  the 
shirt  remain  as  it  was  for  the  present. 

''  Oh,  you're  afraid  for  your  property.  No,  I  shan't 
steal  it !  "  said  Liudmilla  in  a  loud,  angry  voice,  ringing 
with  tears. 

She  threw  him  the  belt  impetuously,  and  turned 
toAvards  the  window.  Much  she  wanted  him,  wrapped  up 
in  his  grey  blouse,  the  horrid  boy  ! 

Sasha  quickly  put  on  Ms  blouse,  somehow  arranged 
his  shirt  and  looked  at  Liudmilla  cautiously,  indecisively 
and  shamefacedly.  He  saw  that  she  was  wiping  her 
cheeks  with  her  fingers  ;  he  walked  up  to  her  timidly  and 
looked  into  her  face — and  the  tears  which  were  trickling 
down  her  cheeks  weakened  him  into  pity — and  he  felt 
no  longer  ashamed  and  angry. 

'  Why  are  you  crying,  dear  Liudmillotchka  ?  "  he 
asked  quietly. 

And  suddenly  he  flushed — he  remembered  that  he  had 
struck  her. 

'  I  hit  you — forgive  me  !  I  didn't  do  it  on  purpose," 
he  said  timidly. 

'  Are  you  afraid  you'll  melt  away,  you  silly  boy,  that 
you  won't  sit  with  your  shoulders  naked  ?  "  said  Liud- 

293 


milla  reproachfully.     "  Or  arc  you  afraid  that  you'll  get 
sunburnt,  or  your  beauty  and  innocence  be  lost  ?  " 

"  But  why  do  you  want  me  to  do  it,  Liudmillotchka  ?  ' 
said  Sasha  with  a  grimace  of  embarrassment. 

"  Why  ?  "  said  Liudmilla  passionately,  "  because  I 
love  beauty.  Because  I  am  a  pagan,  a  sinner.  I  ought 
to  have  been  born  in  ancient  Athens.  I  love  flowers, 
perfumes,  brightly  coloured  clothes,  the  naked  body. 
They  say  there  is  a  soul.  I  don't  know,  I've  never  seen 
it.  And  what  is  it  to  me  ?  Let  me  die  altogether  like  an 
Undine,  let  me  melt  away  like  a  cloud  under  the  sun.  I 
love  the  body,  the  strong,  agile,  naked  body,  which  is 
capable  of  enjoyment." 

"  Yes,  but  it  can  suffer  also,"  said  Sasha  quietly. 

"  And  to  suffer  is  also  good,"  whispered  Liudmilla. 
"  There  is  sweetness  in  pain — if  only  to  feel  the  body, 
to  see  its  nakedness  and  bodily  beauty." 

"  But  it  is  shameful  to  be  without  clothes,"  said  Sasha 
timidly. 

Liudmilla  impetuously  threw  herself  on  her  knees 
before  him.  She  kissed  his  hands  and  whispered  breath- 
lessly : 

"  My  dear,  my  idol,  divine  boy,  just  for  a  moment, 
only  for  a  moment,  let  me  see  your  beautiful  shoulders." 

Sasha  sighed,  looked  down,  flushed  and  took  off  his 
blouse  awkwardly.  Liudmilla  caught  him  with  her  warm 
hands  and  covered  his  shoulders,  which  trembled  with 
shame,  with  kisses. 

"  Do  you  see  how  obedient  I  am  ?  "  said  Sasha  with  a 
forced  smile,  trying  to  get  rid  of  his  embarrassment  with 
a  jest. 

Liudmilla  quickly  kissed  his  arms  from  the  shoulders 
to  the  fingers,  and  Sasha,  immersed  in  passionate,  grave 
thoughts,  did  not  take  them  away.  Liudmilla's  kisses 
were  warm  with  adoration — and  it  was  as  if  her  lips  were 
kissing  not  a  boy  but  a  boy-god  in  a  mysterious  worship 
of  the  blossoming  Body. 

294 


Darya  and  Valeria  were  standing  behind  the  door, 
looking  through  the  keyhole  in  turns,  jostling  each  other 
with  impatience,  and  their  hearts  were  sick  with  a 
passionate,  burning  agitation. 

"  It's  time  to  dress,"  said  Sasha  at  last. 

Liudmilla  sighed,  and  with  the  same  reverent  ex- 
pression helped  him  on  with  his  clothes. 

"  So  you're  a  pagan  ?  "  asked  Sasha. 

Liudmilla  laughed. 

"  And  you  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  What  a  question  ?  "  said  Sasha  with  assurance. 
"  I've  learned  the  whole  catechism." 

Liudmilla  laughed  loudly.  Sasha  looked  at  her  smiling 
and  asked  : 

"  If  you're  a  pagan,  why  do  you  go  to  church  ?  " 

Liudmilla  ceased  laughing  and  reflected. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  one  has  to  pray.  One  has  to  pray, 
to  weep,  to  burn  a  candle,  and  do  something  for  the  dead. 
And  I  love  it  all,  the  candles,  the  image-lamps,  the  in- 
cense, the  vestments,  the  singing — if  the  singers  are  good 
— the  ikons,  with  their  trimmings  and  ribbons.  Yes,  all 
that  is  beautiful.  And  I  also  love  Him  .  .  .  you  know 
.  .  .  the  Crucified  One.  .  .  ." 

Liudmilla  pronounced  the  last  words  very  quietly, 
almost  in  a  whisper,  blushed  like  a  guilty  person  and 
cast  down  her  eyes. 

"  Do  you  know  I  sometimes  dream  of  Him  on  the 
cross,  and  there  are  drops  of  blood  on  His  body." 

From  that  time  on  Liudmilla  more  than  once  took 
Sasha  to  her  room  and  began  to  unbutton  his  blouse. 
At  first  he  was  ashamed  to  tears,  but  he  soon  got  used  to  it. 
And  already  he  looked  clearly  and  calmly  when  Liudmilla 
bared  his  shoulders  and  caressed  his  back.  In  the  end 
he  would  take  off  his  clothes  himself. 

295 


And  Liudmilla  found  it  very  pleasant  to  hold  him 
half-naked  on  her  knees,  kissing  him. 

Sasha  was  alone  at  home.  He  thought  of  Liudmilla 
and  of  his  naked  shoulders  under  her  passionate  glances. 

"  And  what  does  she  want  ?  "  he  thought.  And 
suddenly  he  grew  livid  and  his  heart  beat  rapidly.  A 
tumultuous  happiness  seized  him.  He  turned  several 
somersaults,  threw  himself  on  the  floor,  jumped  on  the 
furniture — a  thousand  absurd  movements  threw  him  from 
one  corner  to  another  and  his  gay,  clear  laughter  resounded 
through  the  house.  Kokovkina,  who  had  returned  home, 
heard  this  extraordinary  din  and  went  into  Sasha's  room. 
She  stood  on  the  threshold  in  perplexity,  shaking  her 
head. 

"Why  are  you  making  such  a  row,  Sashenka?"  she 
said.  "  You  might  have  an  excuse  to  do  it  with  other 
boys,  but  you're  alone.  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
yourself,  young  man — you're  not  a  child  any  longer." 

Sasha  stood  still  and  in  his  embarrassment  seemed  to 
lose  the  use  of  his  hands — his  whole  body  trembled  with 
excitement. 

Once  Kokovkina  came  home  and  found  Liudmilla 
there.    She  was  giving  Sasha  sweets. 

"  You're  spoiling  him,"  said  Kokovkina  affectionately. 
"  He  loves  sweets." 

"  Yes,  and  yet  he  calls  me  a  wicked  girl,"  complained 
Liudmilla. 

"  Oh,  Sashenka,  how  could  you  !  "  said  Kokovkina 
reproachfully.    "  Why  did  you  say  that  ?  " 

"  She's  teasing  me,"  said  Sasha  falteringly. 

He  looked  at  Liudmilla  with  vexation  and  flushed. 
Liudmilla  laughed. 

"  Story-teller  !  "  Sasha  whispered  to  her. 

"  Don't  be  rude,  Sashenka,"  said  Kokovkina,  "  it 
isn't  nice  !  " 

296 


Sasha  glanced  at  Liudmilla  with  a  smile  and  said 
quietly  : 

"  Well,  I  won't  do  it  again." 

Each  time  that  Sasha  came  now  Liudmilla  locked  the 
door  and  dressed  him  up  in  various  costumes.  Their 
sweet  shame  was  dressed  up  in  laughter  and  jokes. 
Sometimes  Liudmilla  pulled  Sasha  into  corsets  and 
dressed  him  in  one  of  her  gowns.  In  the  low-cut  dress 
Sasha's  full,  gently-rounded  arms  and  round  shoulders 
looked  very  beautiful.  His  skin  was  yellowish,  but  of  an 
even,  soft  complexion — a  rare  occurrence.  Liudmilla's 
skirt,  sleeves  and  stockings  were  all  becoming  to  Sasha. 
Dressed  entirely  in  woman's  clothes  Sasha  sat  down 
obediently  and  waved  a  fan.  In  this  costume  he  really 
resembled  a  girl,  and  he  tried  to  behave  like  one.  There 
was  only  one  flaw — Sasha's  short  hair.  Liudmilla  thought 
it  would  be  ugly  to  put  a  wig  on  Sasha's  hair  or  to  tie  on 
a  plait  of  hair. 

Liudmilla  taught  Sasha  to  curtsy.  He  did  this  awk- 
wardly and  shyly  at  first.  But  he  was  graceful  in  spite 
of  his  boyish  angularity.  Blushing  and  laughing,  he 
learned  diligently  to  curtsy  and  he  coquetted  furiously. 

Sometimes  Liudmilla  seized  his  bare,  graceful  arms 
and  kissed  them.  Sasha  did  not  resist,  and  looked  laugh- 
ingly at  Liudmilla.  Sometimes  he  held  out  his  hands  to 
her  lips  and  said  : 

"  Kiss  them  !  " 

But  he  liked  most  of  all  other  costumes,  which 
Liudmilla  herself  made,  particularly  the  dress  of  a 
fisher-boy  with  bare  legs,  the  tunic  of  a  bare-foot 
Athenian  boy. 

Liudmilla  would  dress  him  up  and  admire  him.  But 
she  herself  would  go  pale  and  look  melancholy. 

Sasha  was  sitting  on  Liudmilla's  bed,  playing  with  the 
folds  of  his  tunic  and  dangling  his  naked  legs.    Liudmilla 

297 


stood  in  front  of  him  and  looked  at  him  with  an  expression 
of  happiness  and  surprise. 

"  How  stupid  you  are  !  "  said  Sasha. 

"  There's  so  much  happiness  in  my  stupidity,"  said 
Liudmilla,  pale  and  crying,  and  kissing  Sasha's  hands. 

'  Why  are  you  crying  ?  "  asked  Sasha,  smiling  uncon- 
cernedly. 

"  My  heart  is  stung  with  happiness.  My  breast  is 
pierced  with  seven  swords  of  happiness — how  can  I  help 
crying  ?  " 

"  You  are  a  little  fool,  really  you're  a  little  fool,"  said 
Sasha  with  a  laugh. 

"  And  you're  wise  !  "  replied  Liudmilla  in  sudden 
vexation  and  sighed,  wiping  her  tears  away.  "  Under- 
stand, little  stupid,"  she  said  in  a  quiet,  persuasive  voice, 
"  that  happiness  and  wisdom  are  only  to  be  found  in 
madness." 

"  Yes,  yes  ?  "  said  Sasha  incredulously. 

"  You  must  forget  and  forget  yourself  and  then  you'll 
understand  everything,"  whispered  Liudmilla.  "  In 
your  opinion,  do  wise  men  think  ?  " 

"  And  what  else  should  they  do  ?  " 

"  They  simply  know.  It's  given  to  them  at  once ; 
they  only  have  to  look  and  everything's  opened  to  them." 

The  autumn  evening  dragged  along  quietly.  A  barely 
audible  rustle  came  now  and  then  through  the  window 
when  the  wind  moved  the  tree  branches.  Sasha  and 
Liudmilla  were  alone.  Liudmilla  had  dressed  him  up  as 
a  bare-legged  fisher-boy — in  a  costume  of  thin  blue 
canvas.  He  was  lying  on  a  low  couch  and  she  sat  on  the 
floor  by  his  bare  feet,  herself  bare-foot  and  in  a  chemise. 
She  sprinkled  Sasha's  clothes  and  body  with  perfume — 
a  dense,  grassy  smell  like  the  motionless  odour  of  a 
strangely  blossoming  valley  locked  in  hills. 

Large,  bright  Roman  pearls  sparkled  on  Liudmilla's 
neck,  and  golden,  figured  bracelets  rang  on  her  arms. 

298 


Her  body  was  scented  with  orris — it  was  an  overpowering, 
fleshly,  provoking  perfume,  bringing  drowsiness  and 
langour,  created  from  the  distillations  of  slow  waters. 
She  languished  and  sighed,  looking  at  his  smooth  face,  at 
his  bluish-black  eyelashes  and  at  his  night-dark  eyes. 
She  laid  her  head  on  his  bare  knees,  and  her  bright  hair 
caressed  his  smooth  skin.  She  kissed  his  body,  and  her 
head  whirled  from  the  strange  aroma,  mingling  with  the 
scent  of  young  flesh. 

Sasha  lay  there  and  smiled  a  quiet,  indefinite  smile. 
A  vague  desire  awoke  in  him,  and  sweetly  tormented  him. 
And  when  Liudmilla  kissed  his  knees  and  feet  the  kisses 
aroused  languorous,  half-dreaming  musings  in  him.  He 
Avanted  to  do  something,  something  pleasant  or  painful, 
gentle  or  shameful — but  what  ?  To  kiss  her  feet  ?  Or 
to  beat  her  long,  hard,  with  long  flexible  twigs,  so  that 
she  would  laugh  with  joy  or  cry  with  pain  ?  Perhaps  she 
desired  one  or  the  other.  But  that  was  not  enough. 
What  then  did  she  want  ?  Here  they  were  both  half- 
naked,  and  with  their  freed  flesh  was  bound  desire  and 
a  restraining  shame — but  what  then  was  the  mystery  of 
the  flesh  ?  And  how  then  could  he  bring  his  blood  and 
his  body  as  an  exquisite  sacrifice  to  her  desires,  and  to 
his  shame  ? 

And  Liudmilla  languished  and  stirred  at  his  feet,  going 
pale  from  impossible  desires,  now  growing  cold.  She 
whispered  passionately  : 

"  Am  I  not  beautiful  ?  Haven't  I  burning  eyes  ? 
Haven't  I  wonderful  hair  ?  Then  caress  me  !  Take  me 
close  to  you  !  Tear  off  my  bracelets,  pull  off  my  neck- 
lace !  " 

Sasha  felt  terrified,  and  impossible  desires  tormented 
him  agonisingly. 


299 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

Peredonov  awoke  in  the  morning.  Someone  was  look- 
ing at  him  with  huge,  cloudy,  four-cornered  eyes.  Wasn't 
it  Pilnikov  ?  Peredonov  walked  up  to  the  window  and 
spat  on  the  evil  apparition.  Everything  seemed  be- 
Avitched.  The  wild  nedotikomka  squealed  and  the  people 
and  the  beasts  looked  malignantly  and  craftily  at  Pere- 
donov. Everything  was  hostile  to  him,  he  was  one 
against  all.  During  lessons  at  the  gymnasia  Peredonov 
slandered  his  colleagues,  the  Head-Master,  the  parents 
and  the  pupils.  The  students  listened  to  him  in  astonish- 
ment. Some,  vulgarians  by  nature,  truckled  to  Peredo- 
nov and  showed  their  sympathy  with  him.  Others 
remained  gravely  silent  or  defended  their  parents  hotly, 
when  Peredonov  assailed  them.  Peredonov  looked 
morosely  and  timorously  on  these  boys,  and  avoided  them, 
muttering  something  to  himself. 

At  some  of  the  lessons  Peredonov  amused  his  pupils  by 
absurd  comments. 

They  were  reading  the  lines  from  Pushkin  : 

"  The  sun  rises  in  a  cold  mist ; 
The  harvest-fields  are  silent ; 
The  wolf  goes  out  on  the  road 
With  his  hungry  mate." 

"  Let  us  stop  here,"  said  Peredonov.  "  This  needs  to 
be  thoroughly  understood.  There's  an  allegory  con- 
cealed here.  Wolves  go  in  pairs,  that  is,  the  wolf  with 
his  hungry  mate.  The  wolf  is  fed,  but  she  is  hungry. 
The  wife  should  always  eat  after  the  husband.  The  wife 
should  be  subject  to  the  husband  in  everything." 

Pilnikov  was  in  a  cheerful  mood,  he  smiled  and  looked 

300 


at  Pcredonov  with  his  elusively  fine,  dark  eyes.  Sasha's 
face  annoyed  and  yet  attracted  Peredonov.  The  cursed 
boy  bewitched  him  with  his  artful  smile. 

Was  it  really  a  boy  ?  Or  perhaps  there  were  two 
of  them  :  a  brother  and  a  sister.  But  it  was  difficult  to 
tell  who  was  there.  Or  perhaps  it  was  even  possible  for 
him  to  change  himself  from  a  boy  into  a  girl.  There  must 
be  some  reason  for  his  being  so  clean — when  he  changed 
his  form  he  splashed  in  magical  waters — otherwise  how 
could  he  transform  himself?  And  he  always  smelt  of 
scents. 

"  What  have  you  scented  yourself  with,  Pilnikov  ?  ' 
asked  Peredonov.    "  Was  it  patchkouli  ?  "* 

The  boys  laughed.  Sasha  grew  red  at  the  insult,  but 
said  nothing. 

Peredonov  could  not  understand  the  disinterested 
desire  to  please,  not  to  be  repulsive  to  others.  Every 
such  manifestation,  even  on  the  part  of  a  boy,  he  con- 
sidered a  design  against  himself.  He  who  was  neatly 
dressed  evidently  was  trying  to  gain  Peredonov's  favour. 
Otherwise,  why  should  he  go  to  so  much  trouble  ?  Neat- 
ness and  cleanliness  were  repulsive  to  Peredonov.  Per- 
fumes seemed  to  him  to  be  bad  smells.  He  preferred  the 
stink  of  a  manured  field — which  he  considered  good  for 
the  health — to  all  the  perfumes  of  the  world.  To  be 
neatly  dressed,  washed,  clean,  all  this  required  time  and 
labour;  and  the  thought  of  labour  depressed  and  de- 
jected Peredonov.  How  good  it  would  be  to  do  nothing, 
and  only  eat,  drink  and  sleep  ! 

Sasha's  companions  teased  him  about  his  scenting  him- 
self with  "  patchkouli  "  and  about  Liudmillotchka's 
being  in  love  with  him.  This  angered  him,  and  he  replied 
hotly  that  it  was  not  true,  she  was  not  in  love  with  him 
— that  it  was  all  an  invention  of  Peredonov,  who  had 
paid  court  to  Liudmilla  and  had  been  snubbed  ;   this  was 

*  A  double  meaning  is  implied  in  Peredonov's  use  of  the  word,  as 
the  word  "  patehkatsya  "  means  to  soil  oneself. 

301 


why  he  was  angry  with  her  and  was  spreading  all  sorts 
of  evil  rumours  about  her.  His  companions  believed  him 
— they  knew  Peredonov — but  they  did  not  stop  teasing 
Sasha  ;   it  was  such  a  pleasure  to  tease  someone. 

Peredonov  persisted  in  telling  everyone  about  Pilni- 
kov's  viciousness. 

"  He's  got  himself  mixed  up  badly  with  Liudmillka,"  he 
said. 

The  townspeople  gossiped  of  Liudmilla's  affection  for 
the  schoolboy  in  a  greatly  exaggerated  way,  and  with 
stupid,  unseemly  details.  But  there  were  only  a  few  who 
believed  this  :  Peredonov  had  overdone  it.  Ill-natured 
people — of  whom  there  are  not  a  few  in  our  town — 
asked  Liudmilla  : 

"  What  made  you  fall  in  love  with  a  small  boy  ?  It's 
an  insult  to  the  cavaliers  of  our  town." 

Liudmilla  laughed  and  said  : 

"  Nonsense  !  " 

The  townspeople  regarded  Sasha  with  ugly  curiosity. 
Sasha  sometimes  reproached  Liudmilla  because  he  was 
teased  about  her.  It  even  happened  that  he  slapped  her, 
because  she  laughed  so  loudly. 

To  put  an  end  to  this  stupid  gossip,  and  to  save  Liud- 
milla from  unpleasant  scandal,  all  the  Routilovs  and 
their  numerous  friends  and  relatives  acted  against 
Peredonov  and  persuaded  people  that  all  his  tales  were 
the  inventions  of  a  madman.  Peredonov's  wild  actions 
compelled  many  people  to  believe  this  explanation. 

At  the  same  time  many  denunciations  of  Peredonov 
were  sent  to  the  Director  of  the  School  District.  From 
the  District  headquarters  they  sent  an  enquiry  to  the 
Head-Master.  Khripatch  referred  them  to  his  previous 
reports,  and  added  that  the  further  presence  of  Peredonov 
in  the  gymnasia  was  a  positive  danger,  as  his  mental 
disease  was  visibly  increasing. 

Peredonov  was  now  entirely  governed  by  wild  illusions. 
The  world  was  screened  off  from  him  by  apparitions. 

302 


His  vacant,  dull  eyes  wandered,  and  were  unable  to  rest 
on  objects  as  if  he  wanted  to  look  beyond  them  on  the 
other  side  of  the  objective  world,  and  as  if  he  sought  for 
chinks  of  light  between  them. 

When  he  was  alone  he  talked  to  himself  and  shouted 
senseless  threats  at  some  unknown  person  : 

"  I  will  kill  you  !  I  will  cut  your  throat !  I'll  caulk 
you  up  !  " 

Varvara  listened  with  a  smile. 

"  Make  all  the  row  you  want,"  she  thought  malig- 
nantly. 

It  seemed  to  her  that  it  was  only  his  rage  ;  he  must 
have  guessed  that  they  had  fooled  him  and  was  angry. 
He  wouldn't  go  out  of  his  mind — a  fool  has  no  mind  to 
go  out  of.  And  even  if  he  did — well,  madness  cheers  the 
stupid  ! 

"  Do  you  know,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  said  Khripatch, 
"  you  look  very  unwell  ?  " 

"  I  have  a  headache,"  said  Peredonov  morosely. 

"  Do  you  know,  my  friend,"  continued  the  Head- 
Master  in  a  cautious  voice,  "  I  would  advise  you  not  to 
come  to  the  gymnasia  at  present.  You  ought  to  attend 
to  yourself — to  give  a  little  attention  to  your  nerves, 
which  are  obviously  a  little  unstrung." 

"  Not  come  to  the  gymnasia  !  Of  course,"  thought 
Peredonov,  "  that's  the  best  thing  to  do.  Why  didn't  I 
think  of  it  before  !  I'll  look  ill,  and  stay  at  home  and  see 
what  will  come  of  it." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I'd  better  not  come.  I  am  rather  unwell," 
he  said  eagerly  to  Khripatch. 

At  the  same  time  Khripatch  wrote  again  to  the  Head 
Office  of  the  District  and  awaited  from  day  to  day  the 
appointment  of  the  physicians  for  an  examination  of 
Peredonov.  But  the  officials  were  very  leisurely.  That 
was  because  they  were  officials. 

Peredonov  did  not  go  to  the  gymnasia  and  awaited 

303 


something.  During  the  last  few  days  he  had  clung  more 
and  more  to  Volodin.  Directly  he  opened  his  eyes  in  the 
morning  Peredonov  thought  gloomily  of  Volodin  :  where 
was  he  now  ?  Was  he  up  to  something  ?  Sometimes  he 
had  visions  of  Volodin :  clouds  floated  in  the  sky  like  a 
flock  of  sheep,  and  Volodin  ran  among  them,  bleating 
with  laughter,  with  a  bowler  hat  on  his  head  ;  sometimes 
he  floated  by  in  the  smoke  issuing  from  the  chimneys, 
making  monstrous  grimaces  and  leaping  in  the  air. 

Volodin  thought  and  told  everyone  with  pride  that 
Peredonov  had  recently  taken  a  great  fancy  to  him — that 
Peredonov  simply  could  not  live  without  him. 

"  Varvara  has  fooled  him,"  explained  Volodin,  "  and 
he  sees  that  I  alone  am  his  faithful  friend — that's  why  he 
sticks  to  me." 

When  Peredonov  went  out  of  his  house  to  look  for 
Volodin,  the  other  met  him  on  the  way  in  his  bowler  hat, 
with  his  stick,  jumping  along  gaily  and  laughing  his 
bleating  laugh. 

"  Why  do  you  always  wear  a  bowler  ?  "  Peredonov 
once  asked  him. 

"  Well,  why  shouldn't  I  wear  a  bowler,  Ardalyon 
Borisitch  ?  "  replied  Volodin  gaily  and  shrewdly.  "  It's 
modest  and  becoming.  I'm  not  allowed  to  wear  a  cap 
with  a  badge,  and  as  for  a  top-hat,  let  the  aristocrats 
stick  to  it,  it  doesn't  become  us." 

"  You'll  roast  in  your  bowler,"  said  Peredonov  morosely. 

Volodin  sniggered. 

They  went  to  Peredonov's  house. 

"  One  has  to  do  so  much  walking,"  complained  Pere- 
donov. 

"  It's  good  to  take  exercise,  Ardalyon  Borisitch,"  said 
Volodin  persuasively.  "  You  work,  you  take  a  walk, 
you  eat  your  meals,  and  you're  healthy." 

"  Well,  yes,"  said  Peredonov,  "  do  you  think  that  in 
two  or  three  hundred  years  from  now  people  will  have 
to  work  ?  " 

304 


"  What  else  is  there  to  do  ?  If  you  don't  work,  you 
have  no  bread  to  eat.  You  buy  bread  with  money  and 
you  have  to  earn  the  money." 

"  But  I  don't  want  bread." 

"  But  there  wouldn't  be  any  rolls  or  tarts  either,"  said 
Volodin  with  a  snigger.  "  No  one  would  have  any  money 
to  buy  vodka,  and  there  wouldn't  be  anything  to  make 
liqueurs  of." 

"  No,  the  people  themselves  won't  work,"  said  Pere- 
donov.  "  There'll  be  machines  for  everything — all  you'll 
have  to  do  is  to  turn  a  handle  like  an  ariston*  and  it's 
ready.  .  .  .  But  it  would  be  a  bore  to  turn  it  long." 

Volodin  lapsed  into  thought,  lowered  his  head,  stuck 
out  his  lips  and  said,  reflectively  : 

"  Yes,  that  would  be  very  good.  Only  none  of  us  will 
live  to  see  it." 

Peredonov  looked  at  him  malignantly  and  grumbled  : 
'  You  mean  you  won't  live  to  see  it,  but  I  shall." 

"  May  God  grant  you,"  said  Volodin  gaily,  "  to  live 
two  hundred  years,  and  then  to  crawl  on  all  fours  for 
three  hundred." 

Peredonov  no  longer  pronounced  exorcisms — let  the 
worst  come.  He  would  triumph  over  everything ;  he 
had  only  to  be  on  his  guard  and  not  yield. 

Once  at  home,  sitting  in  the  dining-room  and  drinking 
with  Volodin,  Peredonov  told  him  about  the  Princess. 

The  Princess,  according  to  Peredonov,  grew  more 
decrepit  and  terrible  from  day  to  day  ;  yellow,  wrinkled, 
bent,  tusked,  evil,  she  incessantly  haunted  Peredonov. 

"  She's  two  hundred  years  old,"  said  Peredonov,  look- 
ing strangely  and  gloomily  before  him,  "  and  she  wants 
me  to  make  it  up  with  her  again.  Until  then  she  won't 
give  me  a  job." 

"  She  certainly  wants  a  good  deal,"  said  Volodin 
shaking  his  head.    "  The  old  hag  !  " 

*  A  musical  instrument. 

X— LITTLE   DEMON  305 


Peredonov  brooded  over  murder.  He  said  to  Volodin, 
frowning  savagely  : 

"  I've  got  one  hidden  behind  the  wall-paper.  And  I'm 
going  to  kill  another  under  the  floor." 

But  Volodin  was  not  afraid,  and  kept  on  sniggering. 

"  Do  you  smell  the  stench  from  behind  the  wall- 
paper ?  "  asked  Peredonov. 

"No,  I  don't  smell  it,"  said  Volodin,  still  sniggering 
and  grimacing. 

"  Your  nose  is  blocked  up,"  said  Peredonov.  "  No  won- 
der it's  gone  red.    It's  rotting  there  behind  the  wall-paper." 

"  A  beetle  !  "  exclaimed  Varvara  with  a  boisterous 
laugh.    Peredonov  looked  dull  and  grave. 

Peredonov  became  more  and  more  engulfed  in  his 
madness,  and  began  to  write  denunciations  against  the 
court  cards,  the  nedotikomka,  the  Ram — that  he,  the 
Ram,  was  an  imposter  who,  representing  Volodin,  was 
aiming  for  a  high  position,  but  was  in  reality  only  a  Ram ; 
against  the  forest  destroyers  who  cut  down  the  birches, 
so  that  there  were  no  twigs  for  Turkish  baths,  and  that  it 
was  impossible  to  bring  up  children,  because  they  left 
only  the  aspens,  and  what  use  were  they  ? 

When  he  met  the  schoolboys  in  the  street,  Peredonov 
frightened  the  youngest  and  amused  the  older  ones  with 
his  shameless  and  ridiculous  words.  The  older  ones 
walked  after  him  in  a  crowd,  scattering,  however,  when 
they  saw  one  of  the  other  masters  ;  the  younger  ones  ran 
away  from  him  of  their  own  accord. 

Peredonov  saw  enchantments  and  sorceries  in  every- 
thing. His  hallucinations  terrified  him  and  forced  from 
him  senseless  moans  and  squeals.  The  nedotikomka 
appeared  to  him  now  blood-like,  now  flaming  ;  it  groaned 
and  it  bellowed,  and  its  bellowing  split  his  head  with  an 
unendurable  pain.  The  cat  grew  to  terrible  dimensions, 
stamped  with  high  boots  and  turned  into  a  huge  red 
bewhiskered  person. 

306 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

Sasha  left  home  after  lunch  and  did  not  return  at  the 
appointed  time,  at  seven  ;   Kokovkina  was  worried  : 

''  May  God  preserve  him  from  meeting  one  of  his 
masters  in  the  street  at  a  forbidden  time  !  He'll  be 
punished  and  I  shall  feel  uncomfortable,"  she  thought. 
Quiet  boys  always  lived  at  her  house  and  did  not  wander 
about  at  night.  Kokovkina  went  to  look  for  Sasha. 
Where  else  could  he  be  except  at  the  Routilovs'. 

As  ill  luck  would  have  it,  Liudmilla  that  evening  had 
forgotten  to  lock  the  door.  Kokovkina  entered,  and 
what  did  she  see  ?  Sasha  stood  before  the  mirror  in  a 
woman's  dress,  waving  a  fan.  Liudmilla  was  laughing 
and  arranging  ribbons  at  his  brightly-coloured  belt. 

''  Good    heavens  !  "    exclaimed   Kokovkina  in  horror. 

'  What's  this  ?     I  was  worried  and  came  to  look  for 

him,  and  here  he  is  acting  a  comedy.     What  a  disgrace 

for  him  to  dress  himself  in  a  skirt.     And  aren't  you 

ashamed,  Liudmilla  Platonovna  ?  " 

Liudmilla  was  for  a  moment  very  embarrassed  because 
of  the  suddenness  of  the  thing,  but  soon  recovered  her- 
self. She  embraced  Kokovkina  with  a  laugh,  sat  her  in 
a  chair  and  invented  an  explanation  : 

'  We  are  going  to  have  a  play  at  home — I  shall  be  a 
boy  and  he'll  be  a  girl  and  it'll  be  very  amusing." 

Sasha  stood  flushed  and  terrified,  with  tears  in  his 
eyes. 

"  What  nonsense  !  "  said  Kokovkina  angrily,  "  he 
ought  to  be  studying  his  lessons  and  not  waste  his  time 
play-acting.  What  will  you  think  of  next  !  Dress  your- 
self at  once,  Aleksandr,  and  march  home  with  me." 

Liudmilla  laughed  loudly  and  gaily  and  kissed  Kokov- 

307 


kina — and  the  old  woman  thought  that  the  happy  girl 
was  very  child-like,  and  that  Sasha  obediently  carried 
out  all  her  whims.  Liudmilla's  laughter,  at  this  moment, 
shoAved  this  to  be  only  a  simple  childish  prank,  for  which 
they  would  only  have  to  be  lectured  a  little.  And  Kokov- 
kina  grumbled,  assuming  an  angry  face,  but  her  feelings 
were  already  calmed  down. 

Sasha  quickly  redressed  himself  behind  the  screen, 
where  Liudmilla's  bed  stood.  Kokovkina  took  him  off, 
and  scolded  him  all  the  way  home.  Sasha  felt  ashamed 
and  frightened  and  did  not  attempt  to  justify  himself. 

"  And  what  will  happen  at  home  ?  "  he  thought 
timidly.  At  home,  Kokovkina  treated  him  sternly  for 
the  first  time  :  she  ordered  him  to  get  down  on  his  knees. 
But  Sasha  had  barely  been  in  that  position  for  a  few 
moments  when  Kokovkina,  softened  by  his  repentant 
face  and  silent  tears,  released  him.    She  said  grumblingly  : 

"  What  a  little  lady-killer,  you  are  !  Your  perfumes 
can  be  smelt  a  mile  off  !  " 

Sasha  gracefully  bent  over  and  kissed  her  hand — and 
the  courtesy  of  the  punished  boy  touched  her  even  more. 

In  the  meantime  a  storm  was  gathering  over  Sasha. 
Varvara  and  Grushina  composed  and  sent  to  Khripatch 
an  anonymous  letter  to  the  effect  that  the  schoolboy, 
Pilnikov,  had  been  fascinated  by  the  Routilov  girl,  that 
he  spent  whole  evenings  with  her  rather  questionably. 
Khripatch  collected  a  recent  conversation.  One  evening 
at  the  house  of  the  Marshal  of  the  Nobility  someone  had 
thrown  out  an  insinuation — which  no  one  had  taken  up 
— about  a  girl  who  was  in  love  with  a  schoolboy.  The 
conversation  had  immediately  passed  to  other  subjects  : 
in  Khripatch's  presence,  everyone,  acting  on  the  unwritten 
law  of  people  accustomed  to  good  society,  considered  this 
an  extremely  awkward  theme  for  discussion,  and  they 
assumed  that  this  topic  was  not  to  be  mentioned  in  the 
presence  of  women  and  that  the  rumour  itself  was  trivial 

308 


and  very  unlikely.  Khripatch,  of  course,  had  noticed 
this  but  he  was  not  so  naive  as  to  ask  anyone.  He  was 
fully  confident  that  he  would  know  all  about  it  soon, 
that  all  information  came  of  itself  in  one  way  or  another, 
but  always  in  good  season.  Well,  here  was  a  letter  which 
contained  the  expected  information. 

Khripatch  did  not  for  a  moment  believe  that  Pilnikov 
was  guilty,  and  that  his  relations  with  Liudmilla  were 
improper. 

"  This,"  he  thought,  "  is  one  of  Peredonov's  stupid 
inventions  and  is  nourished  by  Grushina's  envy  and 
spitefulness.  But  this  letter  shows  that  certain  undesir- 
able rumours  are  current,  which  might  cast  a  reflection 
on  the  good  name  of  the  gymnasia  entrusted  to  me.  And 
therefore  measures  must  be  taken." 

First  of  all  Khripatch  invited  Kokovkina  to  discuss 
with  him  the  circumstances  which  had  helped  to  give 
rise  to  these  rumours. 

Kokovkina  already  knew  what  was  the  trouble.  She 
had  been  informed  even  more  bluntly  than  the  Head- 
Master.  Grushina  had  waited  for  her  in  the  street, 
entered  into  conversation,  and  told  her  that  Liudmilla 
had  already  managed  to  corrupt  Sasha.  Kokovkina 
was  dumbfounded.  When  she  got  home  she  showered 
reproaches  upon  Sasha.  She  was  all  the  more  vexed 
because  this  had  happened  almost  before  her  eyes,  and 
because  Sasha  had  gone  to  the  Routilovs'  with  her  know- 
ledge. Sasha  pretended  not  to  understand  anything  and 
he  asked  : 

"  What  have  I  done  wrong?  " 

Kokovkina  was  at  a  loss  for  a  moment. 

"  What  wrong  ?  Don't  you  know  yourself  ?  Didn't 
I  find  you  in  a  skirt  not  long  ago  ?  Have  you  forgotten, 
you  shameless  boy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  what  was  especially  wrong  with  that  ? 
And  didn't  you  punish  me  for  it  ?  It  wasn't  as  if  I'd 
stolen  the  skirt !  " 

309 


"  Hark  how  he  talks  !  "  said  Kokovkina  in  a  distraught 
way.    "  I  punished  you,  but  not  enough  apparently." 

"  Well,  punish  me  again,"  said  Sasha  defiantly,  with 
the  look  of  a  person  unjustly  treated.  "  You  forgave  me 
yourself,  and  now  it  wasn't  enough.  I  didn't  ask  you  to 
forgive  me — I  would  have  knelt  all  the  evening.  And 
what's  the  good  of  scolding  me  all  the  time  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  everyone  in  town  is  talking  about  you  and 
your  Liudmillotchka." 

"  And  what  are  they  saying  ?  "  asked  Sasha  in  an 
innocently  inquisitive  tone  of  voice. 

Kokovkina  was  again  at  a  loss. 

"  It's  clear  enough  what  they're  saying  !  You  know 
perfectly  well  what  might  be  said  of  you.  Very  little 
that's  good,  you  may  be  sure.  You're  up  to  mischief 
with  your  Liudmillotchka — that's  what  they're  saying." 

"  Well,  I  won't  get  up  to  mischief  again,"  Sasha 
promised  as  calmly  as  if  the  conversation  concerned  a 
game  of  "  touch." 

He  assumed  an  expression  of  innocence,  but  his  heart 
was  heavy.  He  asked  Kokovkina  what  they  were  saying 
and  was  afraid  that  he  would  hear  it  was  something 
unpleasant.  What  could  they  be  saying  ?  Liudmil- 
lotchka's  room  faced  the  garden  ;  it  could  not  be  seen 
from  the  street.  Besides,  Liudmillotchka  always  lowered 
the  blinds.  And  if  anyone  had  looked  in,  what  could 
they  say  ?  Perhaps  something  annoying  and  insulting. 
Or  perhaps  they  were  only  saying  that  he  often  went  there. 

And  here  on  the  next  day  Kokovkina  received  an 
invitation  to  go  and  see  the  Head-Master.  The  old 
woman  was  distraught.  She  did  not  even  mention  it  to 
Sasha,  but  at  the  appointed  time  went  quickly  on  her 
errand.  Khripatch  kindly  and  gently  informed  her  of 
the  anonymous  letter  he  had  received.  She  began  to 
cry. 

"  Be  calm,  we're  not  accusing  you  of  anything,"  said 
Khripatch.     "  We  know  you  too  well.     Of  course,  you'll 

310 


have  to  look  after  him  a  little  more  rigorously.     But  I 
want  you  to  tell  me  now  what  actually  has  taken  place." 

Kokovkina  came  home  with  more  reproaches  for 
Sasha. 

"  I  shall  write  to  your  aunt,"  she  said,  crying. 

"  I  haven't  done  anything.  Let  Aunt  come,  I'm  not 
afraid,"  said  Sasha,  and  he  began  to  cry  also. 

The  next  day  Khripatch  asked  Sasha  to  come  and  see 
him  and  asked  him  dryly  and  sternly  : 

"  I  would  like  to  know  what  sort  of  an  acquaintance 
you  have  been  cultivating  in  the  town." 

Sasha  looked  at  the  Head-Master  with  deceptive 
innocence  and  tranquil  eyes. 

"  What  sort  of  an  acquaintance  ?  "  he  said.  "  Olga 
Vassilyevna  knows  that  I  only  go  to  my  companions 
and  to  the  Routilovs." 

"  Yes,  precisely,"  continued  Khripatch.  "  What  do 
you  do  at  the  Routilovs  ?  " 

"  Nothing  in  particular,"  replied  Sasha  with  the  same 
innocent  look,  "  we  mostly  read.  The  Routilov  sisters 
are  fond  of  poetrv.  And  I'm  always  home  at  seven 
o'clock." 

"  Perhaps  not  always  ?  "  asked  Khripatch,  fixing  on 
Sasha  a  glance  which  he  tried  to  make  piercing. 

"  Yes,  I  was  late  once,"  said  Sasha  with  the  calm 
frankness  of  an  innocent  boy.  "  And  Olga  Vassilyevna 
gave  it  to  me.    But  after  that  I  wasn't  late  again." 

Khripatch  was  silent.  Sasha's  calm  answers  left  him 
rather  nonplussed.  In  any  case  it  would  be  necessary 
to  give  him  a  reprimand,  but  how  and  for  what  ?  He  was 
afraid  that  he  might  suggest  to  the  boy  unwholesome 
thoughts  which — so  Khripatch  believed — he  had  not  had 
before  ;  or  that  he  might  offend  the  boy  ;  but  he  wanted 
to  remove  any  unpleasantness  which  might  in  the  future 
come  from  this  acquaintance.  Khripatch  thought  that 
an  educator's  business  was  a  very  difficult  and  responsible 
matter,  especially  if  you  have  the  honour  of  being  the 

311 


head  of  an  educational  establishment.  This  difficult, 
responsible  business  of  an  educator  !  This  banal  defini- 
tion gave  wings  to  Khripatch's  almost  drooping  thoughts. 
He  began  to  talk  quickly,  precisely  and  uninterestingly. 
Sasha  caught  only  a  phrase  here  and  there  : 

"  Your  first  duty  as  a  pupil  is  to  learn  .  .  .  you  should 
not  be  attracted  by  society  however  pleasant  and  irre- 
proachable ...  in  any  case  I  should  say  that  the  society 
of  boys  of  your  own  age  would  be  preferable  .  .  .  you 
must  keep  high  your  own  reputation  and  that  of  your 
educational  institution.  .  .  .  Finally,  I  may  say  candidly 
that  I  have  reasons  to  suppose  that  your  relations  with 
young  ladies  have  a  character  of  great  freedom  unper- 
missible  at  your  age,  and  altogether  not  in  accordance 
with  generally  accepted  rules  of  propriety." 

Sasha  began  to  cry.  He  felt  distressed  that  anyone 
could  think  and  talk  of  dear  Liudmillotchka  as  of  a 
person  with  whom  you  could  take  improper  liberties. 

"  Upon  my  word,  there  was  nothing  wrong,"  he  assured 
the  Head-Master.  "  We  only  read,  went  for  walks  and 
played — well,  we  ran  sometimes — we  did  nothing  else." 

Khripatch  slapped  him  on  the  back  and  said  in  a  dry 
voice  which  he  tried  to  make  hearty  : 

"  Listen,  Pilnikov.  .  .  ." 

(Why  shouldn't  he  sometimes  call  this  boy  Sasha  ! 
Was  it  because  it  was  not  official  and  there  was,  as  yet, 
no  ministerial  circular?) 

"  I  believe  you  when  you  say  that  nothing  wrong  has 
happened,  but  all  the  same  you  had  better  put  an  end 
to  your  frequent  visits.  Believe  me,  it  would  be  better. 
I  speak  to  you  not  only  as  your  schoolmaster  and  official 
head,  but  also  as  your  friend." 

Nothing  remained  for  Sasha  to  do  but  to  make  his 
bow,  to  thank  the  Head-Master,  and  to  obey.  And  Sasha 
from  this  time  on  went  to  Liudmilla's  only  for  five  or  ten 
minutes  at  a  time — but  still  he  tried  to  go  every  day. 
It  vexed  him  to  be  able  to  make  only  such  short  visits 

312 


and  he  vented  his  annoyance  on  Liudmilla  herself.  He 
often  called  her  now  "  Liudmillka,"  "  silly  fool," 
"  Balaam's  ass,"  and  he  even  struck  her.  But  Liud- 
milla only  laughed  at  it  all. 

The  report  spread  about  town  that  the  actors  of  the 
local  theatre  were  going  to  organise  a  masked  ball  at  the 
Club  House,  with  prizes  for  the  best  man's  and  the  best 
woman's  costumes.  There  were  exaggerated  rumours 
about  the  prize.  It  was  said  that  the  best-dressed  lady 
would  receive  a  cow  and  the  best-dressed  man  a  bicycle. 
These  rumours  excited  the  town  people.  Each  one  was 
eager  to  win — the  prizes  were  so  considerable.  The 
costumes  were  prepared  in  haste.  No  expense  was 
spared.  People  hid  their  costumes  even  from  their 
nearest  friends  so  that  their  brilliant  idea  might  not 
be  stolen.  When  the  printed  announcement  of  the  masked 
ball  appeared — huge  bills,  pasted  on  fences  and  sent  out 
to  important  tradesmen — it  turned  out  that  they  were 
not  giving  a  cow  and  a  bicycle  but  only  a  fan  to  the  lady 
and  an  album  to  the  man.  This  vexed  and  disenchanted 
those  who  had  been  perparing  for  the  ball.  They  began 
to  grumble.    They  said  : 

"  It's  a  waste  of  money." 

"  It's  simply  ridiculous — such  prizes." 

"  They  ought  to  have  let  us  know  at  once." 

"  It's  only  in  our  town  that  the  public  can  be  treated 
like  this." 

Nevertheless  all  the  preparations  went  on  :  it  wasn't 
much  of  a  prize,  but  still  it  would  be  flattering  to  win  it. 

The  amount  of  the  prize  did  not  interest  either  Darya 
or  Liudmilla.  Much  they  wanted  a  cow  !  What  a  rarity 
a  fan  was  !  And  who  was  going  to  award  the  prizes  ? 
We  know  what  taste  these  judges  have  !  But  both  sisters 
were  captivated  by  the  idea  of  sending  Sasha  to  the 
masked  ball  in  a  woman's  dress,  to  fool  the  whole  town 
and  to  arrange  so  that  the  lady's  prize  should  go  to  him. 

313 


Valeria  tired  to  look  as  if  she  agreed  to  it.  It  was  Liud- 
millotchka's  little  friend,  he  was  not  coming  to  see  her, 
but  she  could  not  decide  to  quarrel  with  her  two  elder 
sisters.    She  only  said  with  a  contemptuous  smile  : 

"  He  won't  dare." 

"  Well,"  said  Darya,  "  we  shall  dress  him  up  so  that 
no  one  will  recognise  him." 

And  when  the  sisters  told  Sasha  about  their  project 
and  Liudmillotchka  said  to  him  :  "  We  will  dress  you  up 
as  a  girl,"  Sasha  jumped  up  and  down  and  shouted  with 
joy.  He  was  delighted  with  the  idea,  especially  as  no 
one  would  know — it  would  be  fine  to  fool  everyone. 

They  decided  at  once  that  they  would  dress  Sasha  as 
a  Geisha.  The  sisters  kept  their  idea  in  the  strictest 
secrecy  and  did  not  even  tell  Larissa  or  their  brother. 
Liudmilla  herself  made  the  costume  from  the  design  on 
the  label  of  Korilopsis  :  it  was  a  long  full  dress  of  yellow 
silk  on  red  velvet ;  she  sewed  a  bright  pattern  on  the 
dress,  consisting  of  large  flowers  of  fantastic  shape.  The 
girls  made  a  fan  out  of  thin  Japanese  paper,  with  figures, 
on  bamboo  sticks,  and  a  parasol  out  of  thin  rose  silk  with 
a  bamboo  handle.  They  bought  rose  coloured  stockings 
and  wooden  slippers  with  little  ridges  underneath.  The 
artist  Liudmilla  painted  a  Geisha  mask  :  it  was  a  yellowish 
but  agreeable  thin  face,  with  a  slight  motionless  smile, 
oblique  eyes  and  a  small,  narrow  mouth.  They  had  only 
to  get  the  wig  from  Peterburg — black,  with  smooth, 
arranged  hair. 

Time  was  needed  to  fit  the  costume  and  Sasha  could 
only  come  in  snatches  and  not  every  day.  But  they 
managed  it.  Sasha  ran  off  at  night  by  way  of  the  window, 
when  Kokovkina  was  asleep.    It  went  off  successfully. 

Varvara  also  was  preparing  for  the  masked  ball.  She 
brought  a  stupid  looking  mask,  and  she  didn't  worry 
about  costume — she  dressed  herself  as  a  cook.  She  hung 
a  skimmer  at  her  waist  and  put  a  white  cap  on  her  head, 

314 


it 
cc 


her  arms  were  bare  to  the  elbow  and  very  heavily  rouged 
— a  cook  straight  from  the  hearth — and  the  costume  was 
ready.  If  she  got  the  prize,  so  much  the  better ;  if  she 
didn't,  she  could  get  on  without  it. 

Grushina  dressed  herself  as  Diana.  Varvara  laughed 
and  asked  : 

"  Are  you  going  to  put  on  a  collar  ?  " 

"  Why  a  collar  ?  "  asked  Grushina  in  astonishment. 

"  I  thought  you  were  going  to  dress  up  as  the  dog, 
Dianka,"  explained  Varvara. 

What  a  notion  !  "  replied   Grushina  with   a   laugh, 

not  Dianka,  but  the  Goddess,  Diana." 

Varvara  and  Grushina  dressed  for  the  ball  at 
Grushina's  house.  Grushina's  costume  was  excessively 
scanty  :  bare  arms  and  shoulders,  bare  neck,  bare  chest, 
her  legs  bare  to  the  knee,  light  slippers,  and  a  light  dress 
of  linen  with  a  red  border  against  the  white  flesh — it  was 
quite  a  short  dress,  but  broad  with  many  folds.  Varvara 
said  with  a  smile  : 

"  You  aren't  over-dressed  !  " 

Grushina  replied  with  a  vulgar  wink  : 

"  It'll  attract  the  boys  !  " 

"  But  why  so  many  folds  ?  "  asked  Varvara. 

"  I  can  till  them  with  sweets  for  my  devilkins," 
explained  Grushina. 

All  of  Grushina  that  was  so  boldly  displayed  was 
handsome — but  what  contradictions.  On  her  skin  were 
flea-bites,  her  manners  were  coarse  and  her  talk  was 
insufferably  banal.    Once  more  abused  bodily  beauty  ! 

Peredonov  thought  that  the  masked  ball  was  planned 
on  purpose  to  trap  him.  But  he  went,  not  in  costume 
but  in  a  frock  coat,  to  see  for  himself  how  plots  are 
devised. 

The  thought  of  the  masked  ball  delighted  Sasha  for 
many    days.      But   later,    doubts   began   to   assail   him. 

315 


How  could  he  get  away  from  home,  especially  now  after 
these  recent  annoyances.  It  would  be  a  calamity  if  it 
were  found  out  at  the  gymnasia  and  he  would  be  expelled. 

One  of  the  form  masters,  a  young  man  so  liberal  that 
he  could  not  call  the  cat  "  Vaska,"  but  called  it  "  the  cat 
Vassily,"  had  recently  made  a  significant  observation  to 
Sasha  when  he  gave  out  the  marks. 

"  Look  here,  Pilnikov,  you'll  have  to  pay  more  atten- 
tion to  your  work." 

"  But  I  haven't  any  twos,"  said  Sasha  indifferently. 

His  heart  fell — what  would  he  say  next  ?  No,  nothing. 
He  was  silent  and  only  looked  sternly  at  Sasha. 

On  the  day  of  the  masked  ball  Sasha  felt  that  he  would 
not  have  the  courage  to  go.  It  was  terrible.  There  was 
only  one  thing,  the  costume  was  ready  at  the  Routilovs' 
— should  it  all  be  for  nothing  ?  And  should  all  the  plans 
and  dreams  be  in  vain  ?  And  Liudmillotchka  would  cry. 
No,  he  must  go. 

His  recently  acquired  habit  of  dissembling  aided  Sasha 
from  betraying  his  agitation  before  Kokovkina.  Luckily, 
the  old  woman  went  to  bed  early.  And  Sasha  also  went 
to  bed  early — to  keep  away  suspicion  he  put  his  upper 
clothes  on  a  chair  near  the  door  and  placed  his  boots 
just  outside  the  door. 

There  was  nothing  for  him  to  do  now  but  to  go — which 
was  the  most  difficult  part  of  the  matter.  He  had  only  to 
follow  the  same  path  as  when  he  went  to  have  his  costume 
fitted.  Sasha  put  on  a  light  summer  blouse — it  hung  in 
the  Avardrobe  in  his  room — and  light  house  shoes  and  he 
carefully  crept  out  of  the  window  into  the  street,  choosing 
a  moment  when  there  were  no  footsteps  or  voices  in 
hearing.  A  small  drizzle  was  falling.  It  was  muddy, 
cold  and  dark.  Every  moment  Sasha  was  afraid  he 
would  be  recognised.  He  took  off  his  cap  and  shoes, 
threw  them  back  into  his  room,  turned  up  his  trousers, 
and  ran,  jumping  over  the  pavements,  slippery  with 
rain.    It  was  difficult  to  see  a  face  in  the  dark,  especially 

316 


of  someone  running,  and  whoever  met  him  would  think 


*&> 


he  was  an  ordinary  boy  sent  on  an  errand. 

Valeria  and  Liudmilla  had  made  for  themselves 
unoriginal  but  artistic  costumes ;  Liudmilla  dressed 
herself  as  a  gipsy,  Valeria  as  a  Spanish  woman.  Liud- 
milla wore  bright  red  rags  of  silk  and  velvet,  while  the 
thin,  frail  Valeria  wore  black  silk  and  lace,  and  had  a 
black  lace  fan  in  her  hand.  Darya  did  not  make  herself 
a  new  costume,  she  kept  last  year's,  that  of  a  Turkish 
woman.    She  said  : 

"  It  isn't  worth  while  making  a  new  one  !  " 

When  Sasha  arrived  all  three  girls  began  to  dress  him. 
The  wig  worried  Sasha  most  of  all. 

"  Suppose  it  should  come  off  ?  "  he  kept  repeating 
timorously. 

At  last  they  strengthened  the  wig  with  ribbons  tied 
under  the  chin. 


317 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

The  masked  ball  took  place  at  the  Club  House  in  the 
Market  Square — a  two-storied  building  of  stone,  painted 
bright  red,  resembling  a  barracks.  It  was  arranged  by 
Gromov-Chistopolsky,  the  actor-manager  of  the  local 
theatre.  The  entrance,  which  was  covered  in  by  a  calico 
canopy,  was  lighted  by  lamps.  The  crowd  standing  in 
the  street  criticised  the  arrivals,  for  the  most  part  un- 
favourably, the  more  so  since  in  the  streets  the  costumes 
were  almost  hidden  under  outside  wraps  ;  the  crowd 
judged  chiefly  by  guesswork.  The  policemen  zealously 
kept  order  in  the  street,  while  in  the  hall  itself  the  Com- 
missioner of  Police  and  a  police-inspector  were  present 
as  guests. 

Every  guest  received  on  entering  two  cards,  one  pink, 
for  the  best  woman's  costume ;  one  green,  for  the  man's, 
which  were  to  be  handed  to  the  chosen  persons.  Some 
asked  : 

"  And  can  we  keep  them  for  ourselves  ?  " 

At  the  beginning  the  attendant  at  the  ticket-office 
asked  in  astonishment : 

"  Why  for  yourselves  ?  " 

''  But  suppose  we  think  our  own  costumes  the  best  ?  " 
was  the  reply. 

Later  the  attendant  ceased  to  be  astonished  at  these 
questions,  and  being  a  young  man  with  a  sense  of  humour, 
said  ironically  : 

"  Help  yourself  !    Keep  both  if  you  like." 

It  was  dirtyish  in  the  hall,  and  from  the  very  begin- 
ning a  number  of  the  crowd  were  tipsy.  In  the  close 
rooms,   with  their  smoke-begrimed   walls   and  ceilings, 

318 


burned  crooked  lustres  ;  they  seemed  huge,  heavy  and 
stifling.  The  faded  curtains  at  the  doors  looked  such 
that  one  hesitated  to  brush  against  them.  Here  and 
there  knots  of  people  gathered,  exclamations  and  laughter 
were  heard — this  was  caused  by  certain  costumes  which 
attracted  general  attention. 

The  notary  Goudaycvsky  went  as  an  American  Indian. 
He  had  cock's  feathers  in  his  hair,  a  copper-red  mask 
with  absurd  green  designs  on  it,  a  leather  jacket,  a  check 
plaid  over  his  shoulder,  and  high  leather  boots  with 
green  tassels.  He  waved  his  arms,  jumped  about,  and 
walked  like  an  athlete,  jerking  up  his  naked  knees 
exaggeratedly.  His  wife  was  dressed  as  an  ear  of  corn. 
She  had  on  a  costume  of  brightly  coloured  green  and 
yellow  patches  ;  ears  of  corn  stuck  out  from  her  on  every 
side.  They  caught  everyone  she  passed  and  pricked 
them.  She  was  jostled  and  pinched  as  she  went  along. 
She  said  angrily  : 
"  I'll  scratch  you  !  " 

Everyone  near  laughed.    Some  one  asked  : 
"  Where  did  she  get  so  many  corn  stalks  ?  " 
"  She  laid  in  a  store  last  summer,"  was  the  answer. 
"  She  stole  some  every  day  from  the  fields  !  ' 

Several  moustacheless  officials,  who  were  in  love  with 
Goudayevskaya,  and  who  had  therefore  been  told  by  her 
how  she  would  be  dressed,  accompanied  her.  They  col- 
lected cards  for  her — rudely  and  almost  by  force.  They 
simply  took  them  away  from  some  who  were  not  very 
bold.  There  were  other  masked  women  who  were  zealously 
collecting  cards  through  their  cavaliers.  Others  looked 
greedily  at  the  cards  which  had  not  yet  been  given  up, 
and  asked  for  them.  These  received  impertinent  answers. 
One  dejected  woman,  dressed  as  Night— in  a  blue  cos- 
tume with  a  glass  star  and  a  paper  moon  on  her  forehead 
— said  timidly  to  Mourin  : 
"  Do  give  me  your  card." 
Mourin  replied  rudely  : 

31R 


"  What  d'you  mean  ?  Give  you  my  card  ?  I  don't 
like  your  mug  !  " 

Night  muttered  something  angrily  and  walked  away. 
She  only  wanted  two  or  three  cards  to  show  at  home,  to 
prove  that  she  had  received  some.  Modest  desires  often 
go  unsatisfied. 

The  schoolmistress,  Skobotchkina,  dressed  herself  as 
a  she-bear,  that  is,  she  simply  threw  a  bearskin  across 
her  shoulders  and  put  on  a  bear's  head  as  a  helmet  over 
the  usual  half-mask.  This  was  generally  speaking  shape- 
less, but  it  suited  her  stout  figure  and  stentorian  voice. 
The  bear  walked  with  heavy  footsteps,  and  bellowed  so 
loudly  that  the  lights  in  the  lustres  trembled.  Many 
people  liked  the  bear,  and  she  received  quite  a  number 
of  tickets.  She  was  unable  to  keep  the  cards  herself,  and 
had  not  found  a  clever  cavalier  like  others  of  the  ladies  ; 
more  than  half  of  her  tickets  were  stolen  when  she  was 
being  given  vodka  by  some  of  the  small  tradesmen — 
they  had  a  fellow-feeling  for  her  sudden  ability  to  display 
bearish  manners.    People  in  the  crowd  shouted  out : 

"  Look  how  the  bear  swigs  vodka  !  " 

Skobotchkina  could  not  decide  to  refuse  vodka.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  a  she-bear  should  drink  vodka  when 
it  was  brought  to  her. 

A  man  dressed  as  an  ancient  German  was  conspicuous 
by  his  stature  and  fine  build.  He  pleased  many  because 
of  his  robustness  and  because  his  powerful  arms  with 
their  well-developed  muscles  were  visible.  Women  par- 
ticularly walked  after  him,  and  all  around  him  rose  a 
whisper  of  admiration  and  of  flattery.  The  ancient 
German  was  recognised  as  the  actor,  Bengalsky,  who  is 
a  favourite  in  our  town.  That  was  why  he  received  a 
large  number  of  tickets.    Many  people  argued  thus  : 

"  If  I  can't  get  the  prize,  then  at  least  let  an  actor  (or 
an  actress)  get  it.  If  any  of  us  get  it  they  will  tire  us  out 
with  boasting." 

Crush ina's  costume  was  also  a  success — a  scandalous 

320 


success.  The  men  followed  her  in  a  thick  crowd,  with 
laughter  and  indelicate  observations.  The  women  turned 
away  in  embarrassment.  At  last  the  Commissioner  of 
Police  walked  up  to  Grushina  and  said  suavely  : 

"  Madame,  I'm  afraid  you  must  cover  yourself." 

"  Why  ?  There's  nothing  indecent  to  be  seen  about 
me,"  replied  Grushina  vigorously. 

"  Madame,  the  ladies  are  offended,"  said  Minchukov. 

"  What  do  I  care  for  your  ladies  ?  "  shouted  Gru- 
shina. 

"  Now,  Madame,"  insisted  Minchukov,  "  you  must  put 
at  least  a  handkerchief  on  your  chest  and  back." 

"  Suppose  my  handkerchief's  dirty  ?  "  said  Grushina 
with  a  vulgar  laugh. 

But  Minchukov  insisted  : 

"  As  you  please,  Madame ;  but  if  you  don't  cover  your- 
self a  little,  you'll  have  to  go." 

Grumbling  violently,  Grushina  went  into  the  dressing- 
room  and  with  the  help  of  the  attendant  rearranged  the 
folds  of  her  dress  across  her  chest  and  back.  When  she 
returned  to  the  hall,  though  she  looked  more  modest,  she 
just  as  zealously  sought  for  admirers.  She  flirted  vulgarly 
with  any  man.  Then  when  people's  attention  was  else- 
where she  went  into  the  refreshment-room  to  steal 
sweets.  Soon  she  returned  to  the  hall,  and  showing 
Volodin  a  couple  of  peaches,  smiled  impudently  and 
said  : 

"  I  got  them  myself  !  " 

And  immediately  the  peaches  were  hidden  in  the  folds 
of  her  costume.    Volodin's  face  lit  up  with  joy. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  if  so,  I'll  go  too." 

Soon  Grushina  got  tipsy  and  began  to  behave  bois- 
terously— she  shouted,  waved  her  arms  and  spat. 

"  Dianka's  getting  very  happy  !  "  everyone  said  about 
her. 

Such  was  the  masked  ball  to  which  the  foolish  girls 
had  enticed  the   scatter-brained  schoolboy.     The   three 

Y — LITTLE   DEMON  321 


sisters  and  Sasha  took  two  cabs  and  arrived  rather  late, 
on  his  account.  Their  arrival  in  the  hall  was  noticed. 
The  Geisha  particularly  pleased  many  people.  The 
rumour  went  round  that  the  Geisha  was  Kashtanova,  the 
actress,  very  popular  with  the  male  portion  of  local 
society.  And  that  was  why  Sasha  received  a  large 
number  of  cards.  But  in  fact  Kashtanova  was  not  there, 
for  her  little  boy  had  fallen  dangerously  ill. 

Sasha,  intoxicated  by  his  new  situation,  coquetted 
furiously.  The  more  they  stuck  their  cards  into  the 
Geisha's  little  hand,  the  more  gaily  and  provokingly 
gleamed  the  eyes  of  the  coquettish  Geisha  through  the 
narrow  slits  of  the  mask.  The  Geisha  curtsied,  lifted  her 
small  fingers,  laughed  in  an  intimate  tone,  waved  her  fan, 
struck  first  one  man  and  then  another  on  the  shoulder, 
then  hid  her  face  behind  her  fan  and  frequently  opened 
out  her  rose  parasol.  However,  these  not  over-graceful 
actions  attracted  many  who  admired  the  actress  Kash- 
tanova. 

"  I  will  give  my  card  to  the  most  beautiful  of  ladies," 
said  Tishkov,  and  handed  his  card  to  the  Geisha  with  a 
gallant  bow. 

He  had  taken  a  good  deal  to  drink  and  his  face  was 
flushed ;  his  motionlessly  smiling  face  and  awkward 
figure  made  him  look  like  a  doll.  And  he  kept  continu- 
ally rhyming. 

Valeria  looked  on  at  Sasha's  success,  and  felt  envious 
and  annoyed  ;  she  now  wanted  to  be  recognised  and  to 
have  her  costume  and  slender,  graceful  figure  please  the 
crowd,  and  be  awarded  the  prize.  And  now  she  sadly 
thought  that  this  was  not  possible,  as  all  the  three  sisters 
had  agreed  to  get  cards  only  for  the  Geisha,  and  even  to 
give  their  own  to  her. 

They  were  dancing  in  the  hall.  Volodin  got  tipsy  very 
soon  and  began  to  dance  the  "  squat  "  dance.  The  police 
stopped  him. 

He  said  cheerfully  and  obediently  : 

322 


"  Well,  if  I  mustn't,  then  I  mustn't." 

But  two  other  men  who  had  followed  his  example  and 
were  dancing  the  "  squat  "  dance  refused  to  obey  the 
order. 

"  What  right  have  you  to  stop  us  ?  Haven't  we  paid 
our  ha  If -rouble  ?  "  they  exclaimed  and  were  escorted  out. 
Volodin  went  with  them  to  the  door,  cutting  capers, 
smiling  and  dancing. 

The  Routilov  girls  made  haste  to  find  Peredonov  to 
make  a  fool  of  him.  He  sat  alone  at  the  window  and 
looked  at  the  crowd  with  wandering  eyes.  All  people 
and  objects  seemed  to  him  senseless,  inharmonious,  and 
equally  hostile.  Liudmilla,  in  her  gipsy  dress,  went  up 
to  him  and  said  in  a  guttural  voice  : 

"  Shall  I  tell  your  fortune,  pretty  gentleman  ?  " 

"  Go  to  the  devil  !  "  shouted  Peredonov. 

The  gipsy's  sudden  appearance  frightened  him. 

"  Give  me  your  hand,  dear  gentleman,  pretty  gentle- 
man. I  can  see  from  your  face  that  you'll  be  rich.  You'll 
be  an  important  official,"  Liudmilla  importuned  him, 
and  took  his  hand. 

"  Well,  see  that  you  give  me  a  good  fortune,"  growled 
Peredonov. 

"  My  sweet  gentleman,"  began  the  gipsy,  "  you  have 
'many  enemies,  they'll  inform  against  you,  you  will  weep, 
you  will  die  under  a  fence." 

"  Carrion  !  "  shouted  Peredonov,  and  snatched  his 
hand  away. 

Liudmilla  quickly  disappeared  in  the  crowd.  Then 
Valeria  took  her  place.  She  sat  down  beside  Peredonov 
and  whispered  to  him  very  tenderly  : 

"  I  am  a  lovely  Spanish  maid, 
And  I  love  such  men  as  you, 
But  that  your  wife's  a  wretched  jade, 
Handsome  gentleman,  is  true.'' 

"  It's  a  lie,  you  fool,"  growled  Peredonov. 

323 


Valeria  went  on 


"  Hotter  than  day,  sweeter  than  night, 
Is  my  keen  Seville  kiss  ; 
Spit  in  her  dull  eyes,  my  light, 
And  see  that  you  don't  miss. 
Varvara  is  your  wife, 
You  are  handsome,  Ardalyon  ; 
She's  a  plague  upon  your  life, 
You're  as  wise  as  Solomon." 


"  That's  true  enough,"  said  Peredonov,  "  but  how  can 
I  spit  in  her  eyes  ?  She'll  complain  to  the  Princess  and 
I  shan't  get  the  place." 

"  And  why  do  you  want  the  place  ?  You're  good 
enough  without  the  place,"  said  Valeria. 

"  Yes,  but  how  can  I  live  if  I  don't  get  it  ?  "  said  Pere- 
donov dejectedly. 


Darya  stuck  into  Volodin's  hand  a  letter  with  a  red 
seal  on  it.  Volodin  unsealed  the  letter,  bleating  happily, 
read  it  and  lapsed  into  thought — he  looked  proud  and  a 
little  flurried.    It  was  written  briefly  and  clearly  : 

"  Come,  my  darling,  and  meet  me  to-morrow  night 
at  eleven  o'clock  at  the  Soldiers'  Baths.  Your  un- 
known J." 

Volodin  believed  in  the  letter,  but  the  question  was — 
was  it  worth  going  ?  And  who  was  this  "  J  "  ?  Was  it 
some  sort  of  Jenny  ?  Or  was  it  the  surname  which  began 
with  "  J  "  ? 

Volodin  showed  the  letter  to  Routilov. 

"  Go,  of  course  go,"  Routilov  urged  him,  "  and  see 
what  happens.  Perhaps  it's  some  rich  catch,  who's 
fallen  in  love  with  you  and  the  parents  are  against  it,  so 
she's  taken  this  way  of  speaking  to  you." 

But  Volodin  thought  and  thought  and  decided  that 
it  was  not  worth  while  going.  He  said  with  an  important 
air  : 

324 


"  They're  always  running  after  me,  but  I  don't  want 
girls  so  loose  that  they  run  away  from  home." 

He  was  afraid  that  he  would  get  a  beating,  for  the 
Soldiers'  Baths  were  situated  in  a  lonely  place  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  town. 

When  the  dense,  noisy,  uproariously  gay  crowd  was 
pushing  its  way  into  every  part  of  the  Club  House,  from 
the  door  of  the  dancing  hall  came  a  noise,  laughter  and 
exclamations  of  approval.  Everyone  crowded  in  that 
direction.  It  was  announced  from  one  to  another  that 
a  fearfully  original  mask  had  come  in.  A  thin,  tall  man, 
in  a  greasy,  patched  dressing-gown,  with  a  besom  under 
his  arm,  with  a  hat  in  his  hand,  made  his  way  through 
the  crowd.  He  had  a  cardboard  mask  on, — a  stupid  face, 
with  a  small,  narrow  beard  and  side  whiskers,  and  on  his 
head  was  a  cap  with  a  round  official  badge.  He  kept 
repeating  in  an  astonished  voice  : 

"  They  told  me  there  was  a  masquerade*  here,  but  no 
one  seems  to  be  bathing." 

And  he  languidly  swung  a  pail.  The  crowd  followed 
him,  exclaiming,  and  genuinely  admiring  his  original 
idea. 

"  He'll  get  the  prize,"  said  Volodin  enviously. 

Like  many  others,  he  envied  unthinkingly — he  himself 
wore  no  costume,  so  why  should  he  be  envious  ?  Machigin 
was  enthusiastic  over  this  costume,  the  badge  especi- 
ally aroused  his  delight.  He  laughed  uproariously, 
clapped  his  hands,  and  observed  to  acquaintances  and  to 
strangers  : 

"  A  fine  criticism  !  These  officials  always  make  a 
great  deal  of  themselves — they  wear  badges  and  uni- 
forms. Well,  here's  a  fine  criticism  for  them — very  clever 
indeed." 

*  Masquerade.  This  word  is  used  in  Russia  to  mean  either  a  ball 
or  a  bath,  owing  to  the  fact  that  clothes  are  taken  off  on  both 
occasions. 

325 


When  it  got  hot,  the  official  in  the  dressing-gown  began 
to  fan  himself  with  the  besom,  exclaiming  : 

"  Well,  here's  a  bath  for  you."* 

Those  near  laughed  gleefully.  There  was  a  shower  of 
cards  into  the  pail. 

Peredonov  looked  at  the  besom  wavering  above  the 
crowd.    He  thought  it  was  the  nedotikomka. 

"  She's  gone  green,  the  beast  !  "  he  thought  in  horror. 

*  Referring  to  the  fact  that  a  besom  is  used  in  Russian  and  Turkish 
baths. 


326' 


CHAPTER   XXX 

At  last  the  counting  of  the  cards  began.  The  stewards 
of  the  Club  composed  the  committee.  A  tensely  ex- 
pectant crowd  gathered  at  the  door  of  the  judges'  room. 
For  a  short  time  in  the  dancing-hall  everything  became 
quiet  and  dull.  The  music  ceased.  The  company  grew 
silent.  Peredonov  felt  sad.  But  soon  an  impatient  hum 
of  conversation  began  in  the  crowd.  Someone  said  in  an 
assured  tone  that  both  prizes  would  go  to  actors. 

"  You'll  see,"  someone's  irritated,  hissing  voice  could 
be  heard  saying.  The  crowd  was  restless.  Those  who 
had  received  only  a  few  cards  were  vexed  at  this.  Those 
who  had  a  larger  number  of  cards  were  disturbed  by  the 
expectation  of  a  possible  injustice. 

Suddenly  a  bell  tingled  lightly  and  nervously.  The 
judges  came  out ;  they  were  Veriga,  Avinovitsky,  Kiril- 
lov  and  other  stewards  of  the  Club. 

The  crowd's  excitement  passed  through  the  hall — sud- 
denly everyone  was  silent.  Avinovitsky  shouted  in  a 
stentorian  voice  which  was  heard  through  the  whole  hall  : 

"  The  album,  the  prize  for  the  best  man's  costume,  has 
been  awarded,  according  to  the  majority  of  cards  received, 
to  the  gentleman  in  the  costume  of  an  ancient  German." 

Avinovitsky  lifted  the  album  on  high  and  looked 
savagely  at  the  crowding  guests.  The  huge  German 
began  to  make  his  way  through  the  crowd.  The  others 
looked  hostilely  at  him  and  obstructed  his  passage. 

"  Don't  jostle,  please,"  shouted  in  a  tearful  voice  the 
dejected  woman  in  the  blue  costume,  with  the  glass  star 
and  the  paper  moon — Night. 

"  He's  got  the  prize  and  he  thinks  the  women  must  fall 
at  his  feet  !  "  shouted  a  viciously  angry  voice. 

327 


"  You  won't  let  me  pass  yourself,"  said  the  German 
with  suppressed  annoyance. 

At  last  he  managed  somehow  to  get  to  the  judges,  and 
Veriga  presented  him  with  the  album.  The  band  played 
a  flourish.  But  the  sound  of  the  music  was  lost  in  the 
disorderly  noise.  People  shouted  abusive  exclamations. 
They  surrounded  the  German,  jostled  him  and  shouted  : 

"  Take  off  your  mask  !  " 

The  German  said  nothing.  It  would  not  have  been 
difficult  for  him  to  get  through  the  crowd,  but  he  ob- 
viously hesitated  to  use  his  full  strength.  Goudayevsky 
caught  hold  of  the  album  and  at  the  same  time  someone 
quickly  tore  the  mask  from  the  German's  face.  The 
crowd  cried  out : 

"  It  is  an  actor  !  " 

Their  suppositions  were  justified  :  it  was  the  actor, 
Bengalsky.    He  shouted  angrily  : 

"  Yes,  it  is  an  actor  !  And  what  of  it  ?  You  gave  me 
the  cards  yourselves  !  " 

In  answer  came  the  virulent  exclamation  : 

"  It's  easy  to  slip  in  a  few  extra  !  " 

"  You  printed  the  cards." 

"  There  have  been  more  cards  given  in  than  there  are 
people  here." 

"  He  brought  fifty  cards  in  his  pocket." 

Bengalsky  flushed  and  shouted  : 

"  It's  disgusting  to  talk  like  that.  You  can  prove  it  if 
you  like.  You  can  count  the  cards  and  the  number  of 
people." 

Veriga  interposed,  saying  to  those  near  him  : 

"  Gentlemen,  calm  yourselves.  There's  been  no  cheat- 
ing— you  can  take  my  word  for  it.  The  number  of  tickets 
has  been  carefully  checked  with  the  number  of  entries." 

The  stewards,  with  the  help  of  a  few  of  the  more  sen- 
sible guests,  somehow  pacified  the  crowd.  Besides,  every- 
one was  anxious  to  know  who  would  get  the  fan. 

Veriga  announced  : 

328 


''  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  the  largest  number  of  cards 
for  the  best  lady's  costume  has  been  received  by  the  lady 
in  the  Geisha's  costume,  who  has  therefore  been  awarded 
the  prize — a  fan.  Geisha,  please  come  this  way.  The 
fan  is  yours.  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  humbly  request 
you  to  make  way  for  the  Geisha." 

The  band  again  gave  a  flourish.  The  frightened  Geisha 
longed  to  run  away.  But  she  was  jostled  along  and  led 
forward.  Veriga,  with  an  amiable  smile,  handed  her  the 
fan.  The  colours  of  the  variegated  costumes  glimmered 
before  Sasha's  eyes,  which  were  half  dimmed  by  fear  and 
confusion.  He  would  have  to  return  thanks,  he  thought. 
The  habitual  politeness  of  a  well-bred  boy  showed  itself. 
The  Geisha  made  a  curtsy,  said  something  indistinctly, 
laughed  slightly  and  lifted  her  fingers — and  again  in  the 
room  rose  a  furious  uproar  of  whistling  and  abuse. 
Everyone  made  a  rush  for  the  Geisha.  The  savage  and 
dishevelled  Ear  of  Corn  cried  : 

"  Make  a  curtsj'-,  you  little  beast !  " 

The  Geisha  threw  herself  towards  the  door,  but  her 
way  was  barred.  From  the  crowd  which  seethed  around 
the  Geisha  came  malignant  outcries  : 

"  Make  her  unmask  !  " 

"  Mask  off  !  " 

"  Catch  her  !    Hold  her  !  " 

"  Tear  it  off  !  " 

"  Take  her  fan  away  !  " 

The  Ear  of  Corn  shouted  : 

"'  Do  you  know  who  got  the  prize  ?  Kashtanova,  the 
actress  !  She  stole  someone  else's  husband,  and  yet  she 
gets  the  prize  !  They  don't  give  it  to  honest  women,  the)'- 
give  it  to  that  creature  !  " 

And  she  threw  herself  towards  the  Geisha,  with  piercing 
screams,  clenching  her  bony  fists.  Others  came  after  her, 
mostly  her  cavaliers.  The  Geisha  fought  them  off 
desperately.  A  wild  tussle  began.  The  fan  was  broken, 
torn  out  of  her  hands,  thrown  on  the  floor  and  trodden 

329 


upon.  The  crowd,  with  the  Geisha  in  the  middle,  swayed 
furiously  across  the  room,  sweeping  onlookers  from  their 
feet.  Neither  the  Routilovs  nor  the  Club  stewards  could 
reach  the  Geisha.  The  Geisha,  strong  and  alert,  screamed 
piercingly,  scratched  and  bit  her  assailants.  She  held  her 
mask  on  tightly  now  with  one  hand,  now  with  the  other. 

"  They  ought  all  to  be  beaten,"  screeched  some  spiteful 
little  woman. 

The  tipsy  Grushina,  hiding  behind  the  others,  urged 
on  Volodin  and  other  acquaintances. 

"  Pinch  her  !    Pinch  the  creature  !  "  she  shouted. 

Machigin,  holding  his  bleeding  nose,  jumped  out  from 
the  crowd  and  complained  : 

"  She  hit  me  straight  in  the  nose  with  her  fist  !  ' 

A  vicious  young  man  caught  the  Geisha's  sleeve  in  his 
teeth  and  tore  it  in  half.    The  Geisha  cried  out : 

"  Help  !    Save  me!" 

And  others  began  to  tear  her  costume.  Here  and  there 
her  body  showed  slightly.  Darya  and  Liudmilla  struggled 
desperately,  trying  to  squeeze  through  to  the  Geisha,  but 
in  vain.  Volodin  plucked  at  the  Geisha  so  zealously, 
screamed  and  cut  such  capers  that  he  hindered  other 
people  less  drunk  than  himself  and  more  spiteful :  he  did 
not  attack  her  from  spite  but  from  drunken  joy,  imagin- 
ing that  some  very  amusing  farce  was  going  on.  He  tore 
one  sleeve  clean  off  the  Geisha's  dress  and  he  tied  it 
round  his  head. 

"  It'll  come  in  useful,"  he  shouted,  laughing  and 
grimacing. 

Getting  out  of  the  thick  of  the  crowd,  he  went  on  making 
a  fool  of  himself  in  the  open  space,  and  danced  over  the 
pieces  of  the  fan  with  wild  squeals.  There  was  no  one  to 
restrain  him.  Peredonov  looked  at  him  in  dread  and 
thought : 

"  He's  dancing.  He's  glad  for  something.  That's 
how  he'll  dance  on  my  grave." 

At  last  the  Geisha  tore  herself  away— the  crowd  about 

330 


her  could  not  withstand  her  quick  fists  and  sharp  teeth. 
The  Geisha  dashed  from  the  room.  In  the  corridor  the 
Ear  of  Corn  rushed  at  the  Geisha  again  and  caught  hold 
of  her  dress.  The  Geisha  almost  succeeded  in  tearing 
herself  away,  but  she  was  again  surrounded.  The  scuffle 
was  renewed. 

"  They're  pulling  her  by  the  ears  !  "  someone  ex- 
claimed. 

A  little  woman  caught  the  Geisha's  ear  and  pulled  it 
with  loud  triumphant  cries.  The  Geisha  screamed  and 
somehow  tore  herself  away,  after  having  hit  the  malicious 
little  woman  with  her  fist.  At  last,  Bengalsky,  who  had 
managed  in  the  meantime  to  put  on  his  ordinary  dress, 
fought  his  way  towards  the  Geisha.  He  took  the  trembling 
Geisha  in  his  arms,  covered  her  with  his  huge  body  and 
arms  as  far  as  he  could  and  quickly  carried  her  away, 
thrusting  the  crowd  aside  with  his  elbows  and  feet.  The 
crowd  shouted  : 

"  Rotter  !    Scoundrel !  " 

They  tugged  at  Bengalsky  and  punched  him  in  the 
back.    He  exclaimed  : 

"  I  won't  allow  the  mask  to  be  torn  from  a  woman. 
Do  what  you  like,  I  won't  allow  it." 

In  this  way  he  carried  the  Geisha  the  entire  length  of 
the  corridor,  which  culminated  in  a  narrow  door  opening 
into  the  Club  dining-room.  Here  Veriga  managed  to  hold 
back  the  crowd  for  a  short  time.  With  the  resolution  of 
a  soldier  he  stood  there  and  refused  to  allow  anyone  to 
pass.    He  said  : 

"  Gentlemen,  you  can't  go  any  farther." 

Goudayevskaya,  rustling  with  the  remaining  ears  of 
corn  of  her  costume,  dashed  at  Veriga,  clenching  her  fists 
and  screamed  piercingly  : 

"  Go  away  !    Let  us  pass  !  " 

But  the  General's  imposingly  cold  face  and  his  deter- 
mined grey  eyes  kept  her  from  doing  anything  more. 
She  cried  in  helpless  rage  to  her  husband  : 

33] 


"  You  might  have  boxed  her  ears — you  gaping  block- 
head !  " 

"  It  was  hard  to  get  at  her,"  the  Indian  justified  him- 
self, gesticulating  wildly — "  Pavloushka  was  in  the  way." 

"  You  ought  to  have  hit  Pavloushka  in  the  teeth  and 
her  in   the   ear — why   did  you  stand   on   ceremony  !  ' 
screamed  Goudayevskaya. 

The  crowd  pressed  against  Veriga.  They  abused  him 
fully.  Veriga  stood  calmly  before  the  door  and  tried  to 
persuade  those  nearest  him  to  preserve  order.  The 
kitchen-boy  opened  the  door  behind  Veriga  and  whis- 
pered : 

"  They've  gone,  your  Excellency." 

Veriga  walked  away. 

The  crowd  broke  into  the  dining-room,  then  into  the 
kitchen — they  looked  for  the  Geisha  but  did  not  find  her. 

Bengalsky,  carrying  the  Geisha,  ran  through  the  dining- 
room  into  the  kitchen.  She  lay  tranquilly  in  his  arms  and 
said  nothing.  Bengalsky  thought  he  could  hear  the  strong 
beating  of  the  Geisha's  heart.  On  her  tightly-clutching 
bare  arms  he  noticed  several  scratches  and  near  the  elbow 
the  blue-yellow  stain  of  a  bruise.  In  a  hurried  voice 
Bengalsky  said  to  the  crowding  servants  in  the  kitchen  : 

"  Quick,  an  overcoat,  a  dressing-gown,  a  sheet — any- 
thing !    I  must  save  this  lady." 

An  overcoat  was  thrown  on  Sasha's  shoulders,  Ben- 
galsky somehow  wrapped  it  round  the  Geisha,  and 
traversing  the  dark  stairs,  lighted  by  dim,  smoky  paraffin 
lamps,  carried  her  into  the  yard  and  through  a  gate  into 
the  street. 

"  Take  off  the  mask.  You'll  be  more  likely  to  be 
recognised  with  it  on — and  anyway  it's  quite  dark  here. 
I'll  tell  no  one,"  said  he  rather  inconsistently. 

He  was  curious.  He  knew  for  certain  that  it  was  not 
Kashtanova,  but  who  was  it  then  ?  The  Geisha  obeyed. 
Bengalsky  saw  an   unfamiliar,   smooth  face,   on   which 

332 


fright  was  giving  place  to  an  expression  of  joy  at  an 
escaped  danger.  A  pair  of  cheerful  eyes  gazed  at  the 
actor's  face. 

"  How  can  I  thank  you  ?  "  said  the  Geisha  in  a  clear 
voice.  "  What  would  have  become  of  me,  if  you  hadn't 
saved  me  ?  " 

"  She's  no  coward.     An  interesting  little  woman  !  ' 
thought  the  actor.    "  But  who  is  she  ?  " 

It  was  obvious  that  she  was  a  new  arrival ;  Bengalsky 
knew  the  women  of  the  district.  He  said  quietly  to 
Sasha  : 

"  I  must  take  you  home  at  once.  Give  me  your  address 
and  I'll  call  a  cabby." 

The  Geisha's  face  again  became  dark  with  fear. 

"  You  mustn't,  you  simply  mustn't,"  she  whispered. 
"  I  will  go  home  alone.    Let  me  down  here." 

"  But  how  can  you  go  home  in  such  mud  and  with 
those  wooden  shoes.  You'd  better  let  me  call  a  cab," 
said  the  actor  persuasively. 

"  No,  I'll  go  by  myself.  For  God's  sake  let  me  down," 
entreated  the  Geisha. 

"  I  give  you  my  word  of  honour  I  won't  tell  anyone," 
said  Bengalsky  reassuringly.  "  I  mustn't  let  you  go, 
you'll  catch  cold.  I'm  responsible  for  you  now,  and  I 
can't  let  you  go.  But  tell  me  quickly — they  might  get 
after  you  even  here.  You  saw  what  savages  they  are. 
They're  capable  of  anything." 

The  Geisha  trembled,  quick  tears  suddenly  trickled 
from  her  eyes.    She  said,  sobbing  : 

"  Terribly  cruel  people  !  Take  me  to  the  Routilovs  for 
the  present  and  I'll  spend  the  night  there." 

Bengalsky  called  a  cab.  They  got  in  and  drove  off. 
The  actor  looked  intently  at  the  Geisha's  face.  There 
seemed  to  him  to  be  something  strange  about  it.  The 
Geisha  turned  her  face  away.  The  town-talk  about  Liud- 
milla  and  a  schoolboy  suddenly  occurred  to  Bengalsky's 
mind. 

333 


"  Ah-ha  !  You're  a  boy  !  "  he  said  in  a  whisper,  so 
that  the  cabby  should  not  hear. 

"  For  God's  sake  !  "  said  Sasha  growing  pale  with  fear. 

And  his  smooth  hands  under  the  overcoat  stretched 
themselves  towards  Bengalsky  with  a  movement  of  en- 
treaty.    Bengalsky  laughed  quietly  and  whispered  : 

"  I  won't  tell  anyone.  Don't  be  afraid.  My  business 
is  to  get  you  home  safe,  and  beyond  that  I  know  nothing. 
But  you're  a  daring  kid.    Won't  they  find  out  at  home  ?  ' 

"  If  you  don't  say  anything  no  one  will  know,"  said 
Sasha  in  a  voice  of  gentle  entreaty. 

"  You  can  depend  on  me.  I  shall  be  silent  as  the  grave," 
replied  the  actor.  "  I  was  a  boy  myself  once ;  I  was  up 
to  all  sorts  of  pranks." 

The  clamour  in  the  Club  had  already  begun  to  calm 
down,  but  the  evening  terminated  in  a  new  calamity. 
While  they  were  tussling  with  the  Geisha  in  the  corridor, 
the  flaming  nedotikomka,  jumping  on  the  lustres, 
laughed  and  insistently  whispered  to  Peredonov  that  he 
should  strike  a  match  and  let  loose  her,  the  flaming  but 
confined  nedotikomka  on  these  dingy,  dirty  walls,  and, 
when  she  had  gorged  herself  with  the  destruction  of  this 
building  where  such  terrible  and  incomprehensible  deeds 
were  happening,  then  she  would  leave  Peredonov  un- 
molested. And  Peredonov  could  not  resist  her  impor- 
tunate whisper.  He  entered  the  little  dining-room  which 
was  next  to  the  dancing-hall.  It  was  empty.  Peredonov 
looked  around,  struck  a  match,  put  it  to  the  window- 
curtain  at  the  floor  and  waited  till  the  hangings  caught 
fire.  The  flaming  nedotikomka,  like  an  active  little 
snake,  crept  up  the  curtain,  squealing  softly  and  happily. 
Peredonov  walked  out  of  the  dining-room,  closing  the 
door  behind  him.    No  one  noticed  the  incendiary. 

The  fire  was  only  seen  from  the  street  when  the  whole 
room  was  in  flames.  The  fire  spread  quickly.  The  people 
escaped — but  the  Club  House  was  burnt  down. 

334 


On  the  next  day  the  town  talked  of  nothing  but  the 
Geisha  affair  and  the  fire.  Bengalsky  kept  his  word  and 
told  no  one  that  the  Geisha  was  a  disguised  boy. 

As  for  Sasha  he  had  redressed  himself  that  night  at 
Routilovs  and,  turning  once  more  into  a  simple  bare- 
foot boy,  ran  home,  crept  through  the  window  and  went 
quietly  to  sleep.  In  the  town,  seething  with  slanders,  in 
the  town  where  everyone  knew  everything  about  every- 
one, Sasha's  nocturnal  adventure  remained  a  secret.  For 
long,  but,  of  course,  not  for  always. 


335 


CHAPTER   XXXI 

Ekaterina  Ivanovna  Pilnikova,  Sasha's  aunt  and 
guardian,  received  simultaneously  two  letters  about 
Sasha — one  from  the  Head-Master  and  the  other  from 
Kokovkina.  These  letters  greatly  alarmed  her.  She 
put  all  her  affairs  aside  and  drove  at  once  from  her 
village  through  the  muddy  autumn  roads  to  our  town. 
Sasha,  who  loved  his  aunt,  met  her  with  great  joy.  His 
aunt  came  with  the  intention  of  rating  him  soundly. 
But  he  threw  himself  on  her  neck  with  such  gladness 
and  kissed  her  hands  so  affectionately  that  she  could 
not  at  first  speak  severely  to  him. 

"  Dear  Auntie,  how  good  of  you  to  come !  '  said 
Sasha,  and  looked  happily  at  her  full,  rosy  face  with  its 
kind  dimples  on  the  cheeks  and  its  grave,  hazel  eyes. 

"  You'd  better  postpone  your  pleasure,  I  must  scold 
you  first,"  said  his  aunt  in  an  irresolute  voice. 

"  I  don't  mind  that,"  said  Sasha  indifferently,  "  scold 
me,  if  you  have  anything  to  scold  me  for,  but  still  I'm 
terribly  glad  to  see  you  !  " 

"  Terribly  ?  "  she  repeated  in  a  displeased  voice. 
"  I've  been  hearing  terrible  things  about  you." 

Sasha  lifted  his  eyebrows  and  looked  at  his  aunt  with 
innocent,  uncomprehending  eyes. 

"  There's  one  master,  Peredonov,  here,"  he  com- 
plained, "  who  has  invented  the  tale  that  I'm  a  girl. 
He's  been  annoying  me,  and  then  the  Head-Master 
scolded  me  because  I  had  got  to  know  the  Routilov  girls. 
As  if  I  went  there  to  steal  things  !  And  what  business 
is  it  of  theirs  ?  " 

"  He's  quite  the  same  child  that  he  was  before," 
thought  his  aunt  in  perplexity,  "  or  has  he  become  spoilt 

336 


and  corrupted  so  that  he  can  deceive  one  even  with  his 
face  ?  " 

She  shut  herself  in  with  Kokovkina  and  talked  to  her 
for  a  long  time.  She  came  out  looking  quite  grave. 
Then  she  went  to  the  Head-Master.  She  returned  quite 
upset.  She  showered  reproaches  on  Sasha.  Sasha  cried 
but  firmly  assured  her  that  it  was  all  an  invention,  that 
he  did  not  permit  himself  any  liberties  with  the  Routilov 
girls.  His  aunt  did  not  believe  him.  She  scolded  him, 
wept  and  threatened  to  give  him  a  good  whipping  at 
once — that  is  to-day,  as  soon  as  she  had  seen  these  girls. 
Sasha  kept  crying  and  assuring  her  that  nothing  wrong 
had  happened,  and  that  it  was  all  very  exaggerated. 

His  aunt,  angry  and  bloated  with  tears,  went  to  the 
Routilovs. 

As  she  waited  in  the  Routilovs'  drawing-room,  Ekaterina 
Ivanovna  felt  very  agitated.  She  wanted  to  throw  her- 
self on  the  sisters  at  once  with  the  severest  reproaches 
which  she  had  prepared  beforehand.  But  their  peaceful, 
pretty  drawing-room  aroused  peaceful  thoughts  in  her 
against  her  will,  and  softened  her  vexation.  The  un- 
finished embroidery  left  lying  about,  the  keepsakes,  the 
engravings  on  the  walls,  the  carefully  trained  plants  at 
the  windows,  the  absence  of  dust  and  the  home-like 
appearance  of  the  room  were  not  at  all  what  one  would 
expect  in  an  unrespectable  house  ;  there  was  everything 
that  is  valued  by  housewives  the  world  over — surely  with 
such  surroundings  the  young  owners  of  such  a  drawing- 
room  could  not  have  corrupted  her  innocent  young  Sasha. 
All  the  conjectures  she  had  made  about  Sasha  seemed  to 
her  ridiculously  absurd.  On  the  other  hand,  Sasha's 
explanations  about  his  doings  at  the  Routilovs  seemed 
reasonable ;  they  read,  chatted,  joked,  laughed  and 
played — they  wanted  to  get  up  an  amateur  play,  but 
Olga  Vassilyevna  would  not  allow  him  to  take  part. 

The  three  sisters  felt  apprehensive.     They  did  not  yet 
know   whether   Sasha's   masquerading   had   remained   a 

Z— LITTLE    DEMON  337 


secret.  But  there  were  three  of  them  and  they  all  felt 
solicitous  for  one  another.  This  gave  them  courage. 
All  three  of  them  gathered  in  Liudmilla's  room  and 
deliberated  in  whispers. 

"  We  must  go  down  to  her,"  said  Valeria.  "  It's  rude 
to  keep  her  waiting." 

"  Let  her  cool  off  a  little,"  replied  Darya  indifferently, 
"  or  she'll  go  for  us." 

The  sisters  scented  themselves  with  clematis.  They 
came  in  tranquil,  cheerful,  attractive,  pretty  as  always  ; 
they  filled  the  drawing-room  with  their  charming  chatter 
and  gaiety.  Ekaterina  Ivanovna  was  immediately 
fascinated  by  them. 

"  So  these  are  the  corrupters  !  "  she  thought,  with 
vexation  at  the  school  pedagogues.  But  then  she  thought 
that  perhaps  they  were  assuming  this  modesty.  She 
decided  not  to  yield  to  their  fascination. 

"  You  must  forgive  me,  young  ladies,  but  I  have 
something  serious  to  discuss  with  you,"  she  said,  trying 
to  make  her  voice  dry  and  business-like. 

The  sisters  made  her  sit  down  and  kept  up  a  gay 
chatter. 

"  Which  of  you "  Ekaterina  Ivanovna  began  irre- 
solutely. 

Liudmilla,  as  if  she  were  a  graceful  hostess  trying  to 
get  a  visitor  out  of  a  difficulty,  said  cheerfully  : 

"  It  was  I  who  spent  most  of  the  time  with  your 
nephew.  We  have  similar  views  and  tastes  in  many 
things." 

"  Your  nephew  is  a  very  charming  boy,"  said  Darya, 
as  if  she  were  confident  that  her  praise  would  please  the 
visitor. 

"  Really  most  charming,  and  so  entertaining,"  said 
Liudmilla. 

Ekaterina  Ivanovna  felt  more  and  more  awkward.  She 
suddenly  realised  that  she  had  no  reasonable  cause  for 
complaint  and   this   made   her  angry — Liudmilla's   last 

338 


words  gave  her  an  opportunity  to  express  her  vexation 
— she  said  angrily  : 

"  He  may  be  an  entertainment  to  you  but  to  him " 

But  Darya  interrupted  her  and  said  in  a  sympathetic 
voice  : 

"  Oh,  I  can  see  that  those  silly  Peredonovian  tales 
have  reached  you.  Of  course,  you  know  that  he's  quite 
mad  ?  The  Head-Master  does  not  even  allow  him  to  go 
to  the  gymnasia  now.  They're  only  waiting  for  an 
alienist  to  examine  him  and  then  he  will  be  dismissed 
from  the  school." 

;'  But,  allow  me,"  Ekaterina  Ivanovna  interrupted 
her  with  increasing  irritation.  "  I  am  not  interested 
in  this  schoolmaster  but  in  my  nephew.  I  have  heard 
that  you — pardon  me — are  corrupting  him." 

And  having  thrown  out  this  decisive  word  in  her  anger 
with  the  sisters,  Ekaterina  Ivanovna  at  once  saw  that 
she  had  gone  too  far.  The  sisters  exchanged  glances  of 
such  well-simulated  perplexity  and  indignation  that 
cleverer  people  than  Ekaterina  Ivanovna  would  have 
been  taken  in — they  flushed  and  exclaimed  altogether  : 

"  That's  pleasant !  " 

"  How  terrible  !  " 

"  That's  something  new  !  " 

"  Madam,"  said  Darya  coldly,  "  you  are  not  over 
choice  in  your  expressions.  Before  you  make  use  of 
such  words  you  should  find  out  whether  they  are 
fitting  !  " 

"  Of  course,  one  can  understand  that,"  said  Liudmilla, 
with  the  look  of  a  charming  girl  forgiving  an  injury,  "  he's 
not  a  stranger  to  you.  Naturally,  you  can't  help  being 
disturbed  by  this  stupid  gossip.  Even  strangers  like 
ourselves  were  sorry  for  him  and  had  to  be  kind  to  him. 
But  everything  in  our  town  is  made  a  crime  at  once. 
You  have  no  idea  what  terrible,  terrible  people  live 
here  !  " 

"  Terrible  people,"  repeated  Valeria  quietly,  in  a  clear, 

339 


fragile  voice  and  shivered  from  head  to  foot  as  if  she  had 
come  in  contact  with  something  unclean. 

"  You  ask  him  yourself,"  said  Darya.  "  Just  look  at 
him  ;  he's  still  a  mere  child.  Perhaps  you  have  got  used 
to  his  naivete,  but  one  can  see  better  from  the  outside 
that  he's  quite  an  unspoiled  boy." 

The  sisters  lied  with  such  assurance  and  tranquillity 
that  it  was  impossible  not  to  believe  them.  Why  not  ? 
Lies  have  often  more  verisimilitude  than  the  truth. 
Nearly  always.  As  for  truth  of  course  it  has  no  veri- 
similitude. 

"  Of  course  it  is  true  that  he  was  often  here,"  said  Darya, 
"  but  we  shan't  let  him  cross  our  threshold  again,  if  you 
object." 

"  And  I  shall  go  and  see  Khripatch  to-day,"  said  Liud- 
milla.  "  How  did  he  get  hold  of  that  notion  ?  Surely  he 
doesn't  believe  such  a  stupid  tale  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  think  he  believes  it  himself,"  admitted 
Ekaterina  Ivanovna.  "  But  he  says  that  various  un- 
pleasant rumours  are  going  about." 

"  There  !  You  see  !  "  exclaimed  Liudmilla  happily. 
"  Of  course  he  doesn't  believe  it  himself.  What's  the 
reason  of  all  this  fuss  then  ?  " 

Liudmilla's  cheerful  voice  deceived  Ekaterina  Ivanovna. 
She  thought : 

"  I  wonder  what  exactly  has  happened  ?  The  Head- 
Master  does  say  that  he  doesn't  believe  it." 

The  sisters  for  a  long  time  supported  each  other  in 
persuading  Ekaterina  Ivanovna  of  the  complete  innocence 
of  their  relations  with  Sasha.  To  set  her  mind  more 
completely  at  rest  they  were  on  the  point  of  telling  her 
in  detail  precisely  what  they  did  with  Sasha ;  but  they 
stopped  short  because  they  were  all  such  innocent,  simple 
things  that  it  was  difficult  to  remember  them.  And 
Ekaterina  Ivanovna  at  last  came  to  believe  that  her 
Sasha  and  the  charming  Routilovs  were  the  innocent 
victims  of  stupid  slander. 

340 


As  she  bade  them  good-bye  she  kissed  them  kindly  and 
said  : 

"  You're  charming,  simple  girls.  I  thought  at  first 
that  you  were — forgive  the  rude  word — wantons." 

The  sisters  laughed  gaily.    Liudmilla  said  : 

"  No,  we're  just  happy  girls  with  sharp  little  tongues 
and  that's  why  we're  not  liked  by  some  of  the  local 
geese." 

When  she  returned  from  the  Routilovs  Sasha's  aunt 
said  nothing  to  him.  He  met  her,  feeling  rather  frightened 
and  embarrassed  and  he  looked  at  her  cautiously  and 
attentively.  After  a  long  deliberation  with  Kokovkina 
the  aunt  decided  : 

"  I  must  see  the  Head-Master  again." 


vt3v 


That  same  day  Liudmilla  went  to  see  Khripatch.  She 
sat  for  some  time  in  the  drawing-room  with  the  Head- 
Master's  wife  and  then  announced  that  she  had  come  to 
see  Nikolai  Vassilyevitch  on  business. 

An  animated  conversation  took  place  in  Khripatch' s 
study — not  because  they  had  much  to  say  to  one  another 
but  because  they  liked  to  chatter.  And  they  talked 
rapidly  to  each  other,  Khripatch  with  his  dry,  crackling 
volubility,  Liudmilla  with  her  gentle,  resonant  prattle. 
With  the  irresistible  persuasiveness  of  falsehood,  she 
poured  out  to  Khripatch  her  half-false  story  of  her  rela- 
tions with  Sasha  Pilnikov.  Her  chief  motives  were,  of 
course,  her  sympathy  with  the  boy  who  was  suffering 
from  this  coarse  suspicion,  her  desire  to  take  the  place 
of  Sasha's  absent  family.  And  finally  he  was  such  a 
charming,  unspoiled  boy.  Liudmilla  even  cried  a  little 
and  her  swift  tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks  to  her  half- 
smiling  lips,  giving  her  an  extraordinary  attractiveness. 

"  I  have  grown  to  love  him  like  a  brother,"  she  said. 
"  He  is  a  fine,  lovable  boy.  He  appreciated  affection 
and  he  kissed  my  hands." 

"  That  was  very  good  of  you,"  said  Khripatch  some- 

341 


what  flustered,  "  and  does  honour  to  your  kind  feelings. 
But  you  have  needlessly  taken  to  heart  the  simple  fact 
that  I  considered  it  my  duty  to  inform  the  boy's  relatives 
of  the  rumours  that  reached  me." 

Liudmilla  prattled  on,  without  listening  to  him,  and 
her  voice  passed  into  a  tone  of  gentle  rebuke. 

'  Tell  me  what  was  wrong  in  our  taking  an  interest  in 
the  boy  ?  Why  should  he  suffer  from  that  coarse,  mad 
Pcredonov  ?  When  shall  we  be  rid  of  him  ?  Can't  you 
see  yourself  that  Pilnikov  is  quite  a  child,  really  a  mere 
child  ?  " 

She  clasped  her  small,  pretty  hands  together,  rattled 
her  gold  bracelets,  laughed  softly,  took  her  handkerchief 
out  to  dry  her  tears  and  wafted  a  delicate  perfume  towards 
Khripatch.  And  Khripatch  suddenly  wanted  to  tell  her 
that  she  was  "  lovely  as  a  heavenly  angel,"  and  that  this 
unfortunate  episode  "  was  not  worth  a  single  instant 
of  her  dear  sorrow."    But  he  refrained. 

And  Liudmilla  chattered  on  and  on  and  dissolved  into 
smoke  the  chimerical  structure  of  the  Pcredonovian  lie. 
Think  of  comparing  the  charming  Liudmillotchka  with 
the  crude,  dirty,  insane  Percdonov  !  Whether  Liudmilla 
was  telling  the  whole  truth  or  romancing  was  all  the 
same  to  Khripatch  ;  but  he  felt  that  if  he  did  not  believe 
Liudmilla  and  should  argue  with  her  and  take  steps  to 
punish  Pilnikov  it  might  lead  to  an  inquiry  and  disgrace 
the  whole  School  District.  All  the  more  since  this  busi- 
ness was  bound  up  with  Peredonov  who  would  be  found 
to  be  insane.    And  Khripatch  smiled,  saying  to  Liudmilla  : 

"  I'm  very  sorry  that  this  should  upset  you  so  much. 
I  didn't  for  a  moment  permit  myself  any  disagreeable 
suspicions  of  your  acquaintance  with  Pilnikov.  I  esteem 
most  highly  those  good  and  kindly  motives  which  have 
inspired  your  actions,  and  not  for  a  single  instant  have  I 
considered  the  rumours  that  passed  in  the  town  and 
those  that  reached  me  as  anything  but  unreasonable 
slanders  which  gave  me  deep  concern.    I  was  obliged  to 

342 


inform  Madame  Pilnikov,  especially  since  even  more 
distorted  rumours  might  have  reached  her,  but  I  had  no 
intention  of  distressing  you  and  had  no  idea  that  Madame 
Pilnikov  would  come  and  complain  to  you." 

"  We've  had  a  satisfactory  explanation  with  Madame 
Pilnikov,"  said  Liudmilla.  "  But  don't  punish  Sasha  on 
our  account.  If  our  house  is  so  dangerous  for  schoolboys 
we  won't  let  him  come  again." 

"  You're  very  good  to  him,"  said  Khripatch  irre- 
solutely. "  We  can  have  nothing  against  his  visiting 
his  acquaintances  in  his  leisure  hours,  if  his  aunt  permits 
it.  We  are  very  far  from  wishing  to  turn  students' 
lodgings  into  places  of  confinement.  In  any  case,  until 
the  Peredonov  affair  is  decided,  it  would  be  better  for 
Pilnikov  to  remain  at  home." 

The  accepted  explanation  given  by  the  Routilov  girls 
and  by  Sasha  received  confirmation  from  a  terrible  event 
which  happened  in  the  Peredonovs'  house.  This  finally 
convinced  the  townspeople  that  all  the  rumours  about 
Sasha  and  the  Routilov  girls  were  the  ravings  of  a  mad- 
man. 


343 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

It  was  a  cold,  bleak  day.  Pcredonov  had  just  left 
Volodin.  He  felt  depressed.  Vershina  lured  him  into 
the  garden.  He  yielded  again  to  her  witching  call. 
The  two  of  them  walked  towards  the  summer-house, 
over  the  moist  footpaths  which  were  covered  by  the 
dark,  rotting  fallen  leaves.  The  summer-house  felt 
unpleasantly  damp.  The  house  with  its  windows  closed 
was  visible  through  the  bare  trees. 

"  I  want  you  to  know  the  truth,"  mumbled  Vershina, 
as  she  looked  quickly  at  Peredonov,  and  then  turned 
away  her  black  eyes. 

She  was  wrapped  in  a  black  jacket,  her  head  was  tied 
round  with  a  black  kerchief,  and  her  lips,  grown  blue 
with  the  cold,  were  clenched  on  a  black  cigarette  holder, 
and  sent  out  thick  clouds  of  black  smoke. 

"  I  want  to  spit  on  your  truth,"  replied  Peredonov. 
"  Nothing  would  please  me  better." 

Vershina  smiled  wryly  and  said  : 

"  Don't  say  that  !  I  am  terribly  sorry  for  you — you 
have  been  fooled." 

There  was  a  malicious  joy  in  her  voice.  Malevolent 
words  flowed  from  her  tongue.    She  said  : 

"  You  were  hoping  to  get  patronage,  but  you  were  too 
trustful.  You  have  been  fooled,  and  you  believed  so 
easily.  Anyone  can  write  a  letter.  You  should  have 
known  with  whom  you  were  dealing.  Your  wife  is  not 
a  very  particular  person." 

Peredonov  understood  Vershina's  mumbling  speech 
with  some  difficulty  ;  her  meaning  peered  out  through 
all  her  circumlocutions.  Vershina  was  afraid  to  speak 
loudly  and  clearly.     Someone  might  hear  if  she  spoke 

344- 


loudly,  and  tell  Varvara,  who  would  not  hesitate  to 
make  a  scene.  And  Peredonov  himself  might  get  into 
a  rage  if  she  spoke  clearly,  and  even  beat  her.  It  was 
better  to  hint,  so  that  he  might  guess  the  truth.  But 
Peredonov  did  not  rise  to  the  occasion.  It  had  happened 
before  that  he  had  been  told  to  his  face  of  the  deception 
practised  on  him  ;  yet  he  never  grasped  the  fact  that 
the  letters  had  been  forged,  and  kept  on  thinking  that 
it  was  the  Princess  who  was  fooling  him,  leading  him  by 
the  nose. 

At  last  Vershina  said  bluntly  : 

"  You  think  the  Princess  wrote  those  letters  ?  Why, 
all  the  town  knows  that  they  were  fabricated  by  Grushina 
at  your  wife's  request ;  the  Princess  knows  nothing  about 
it.  Ask  anyone  you  like  ;  everyone  knows — they  gave 
the  thing  away  themselves.  And  then  Varvara  Dmitrievna 
stole  the  letters  from  you  and  burnt  them  so  as  to  leave 
no  traces." 

Dark,  oppressive  thoughts  stirred  in  Peredonov's  brain. 
He  understood  only  one  thing — that  he  had  been  fooled. 
But  that  the  Princess  knew  nothing  of  it  could  not  enter 
his  head — yes,  she  knew.  No  wonder  she  had  come  out 
of  the  fire  alive. 

'  It's  a  lie  about  the  Princess,"  he  said.  "  I  tried  to 
burn  the  Princess,  but  did  not  succeed  in  burning  her  up  ; 
she  spat  out  an  exorcism." 

Suddenly  a  furious  rage  seized  Peredonov.  Fooled  ! 
He  struck  the  table  savagely  with  his  fist,  tore  himself 
from  his  place,  and  without  saying  good-bye  to  Vershina 
walked  home  quickly.  Vershina  looked  after  him  with 
malignant  joy,  and  the  black  clouds  of  smoke  flew  quickly 
from  her  dark  mouth,  and  swirled  away  in  the  wind. 

Rage  consumed  Peredonov.  But  when  he  saw  Varvara, 
he  was  seized  with  a  painful  dread,  which  prevented  him 
from  uttering  a  word. 

On  the  next  morning  Peredonov  got  ready  a  small 
garden  knife,  which  he  carefully  kept  in  a  leather  sheath 

345 


in  his  pocket.  He  spent  the  whole  morning  until  luncheon 
at  Volodin's.  He  looked  at  Volodin  working,  and  made 
absurd  remarks.  Volodin  was  glad,  as  usual,  that 
Peredonov  fussed  about  him,  and  he  accepted  Peredonov's 
silly  talk  as  wit. 

That  whole  day  the  nedotikomka  wheeled  around 
Peredonov.  It  would  not  let  him  go  to  sleep  after  lunch. 
It  completely  tired  him  out.  When,  towards  evening, 
he  had  almost  fallen  asleep,  he  was  awakened  by  a 
mischievous  woman  who  appeared  from  some  place 
unknown  to  him.  She  was  pug-nosed,  amorphous,  and 
as  she  walked  up  to  his  bed  she  muttered  : 

"  The  Kvass  must  be  crushed  out,  the  tarts  must  be 
taken  out  of  the  oven,  the  meat  must  be  roasted." 

Her  cheeks  were  dark,  but  her  teeth  gleamed. 

"  Go  to  the  devil  !  "  shouted  Peredonov. 

The  pug-nosed  woman  disappeared  as  if  she  had  not 
been  there  at  all. 

The  evening  came.  A  melancholy  wind  blew  in  the 
chimney.  A  slow  rain  tapped  on  the  window  quietly  and 
persistently.  It  was  quite  black  outside.  Volodin  was 
at  the  Peredonovs' — Peredonov  had  invited  him  early 
that  morning  to  the  supper. 

"  Don't  let  anyone  in.    Do  you  hear,  Klavdiushka  ?  ' 
shouted  Peredonov. 

Varvara  smiled.    Peredonov  muttered  : 

"  All  sorts  of  women  are  prowling  around  here.  A 
watch  should  be  kept.  One  got  into  my  bedroom  ;  she 
asked  to  be  taken  on  as  cook.  But  why  should  I  have 
a  pug-nosed  cook  ?  " 

Volodin  laughed  bleatingly  and  said : 
'  There  are  women  walking  about  in  the  street,  but 
they  have  nothing  to  do  with  us,  and  we  shan't  let  them 
join  us  at  our  table." 

The  three  of  them  sat  down  at  the  table.  They  began 
to  drink  vodka,  and  to  eat  tarts.    They  drank  more  than 

346 


they  ate.  Peredonov  was  gloomy.  Everything  had 
already  become  a  senseless  and  incoherent  delirium  for 
him.  He  had  a  painful  headache.  One  picture  repeated 
itself  persistently — that  of  Volodin  as  an  enemy.  One 
idea  importuned  and  assailed  him  ceaselessly  :  it  was 
that  he  must  kill  Pavloushka  before  it  was  too  late.  And 
then  all  the  inimical  cunning  would  become  revealed. 
As  for  Volodin,  he  was  rapidly  becoming  drunk,  and  he 
kept  up  an  incoherent  jabber,  much  to  Varvara's  amuse- 
ment. 

Peredonov  seemed  restless.    He  mumbled  : 

"  Someone  is  coming.  Don't  let  anyone  in.  Tell  them 
that  I  have  gone  away  to  pray  at  the  Tarakani*  monas- 
tery." 

He  was  afraid  that  visitors  might  hinder  him.  Volodin 
and  Varvara  were  amused — they  thought  that  he  was 
only  drunk.  They  exchanged  winks,  and  walked  out 
separately  and  knocked  on  the  door,  and  said  in  different 
voices  : 

"  Is  General  Peredonov  at  home  ?  " 

"  I've  brought  General  Peredonov  a  diamond  star." 

But  the  star  did  not  tempt  Peredonov  that  evening. 
He  shouted  : 

"  Don't  let  them  in  !  Chuck  them  out !  Let  them 
bring  it  in  the  morning.    Now  is  not  the  time." 

"  No,"  he  thought,  "  I  need  all  my  strength  to-night. 
Everything  will  be  revealed  to-night — but  until  then  my 
enemies  are  ready  to  send  anything  and  everything 
against  me  to  destroy  me." 

"  Well,  we've  chased  them  away.  They'll  bring  it 
to-morrow  morning,"  said  Volodin,  as  he  seated  him- 
self once  more  at  the  table. 

Peredonov  fixed  his  troubled  eyes  upon  him,  and 
asked  : 

"  Are  you  a  friend  to  me  or  an  enemy  ?  ' 
A  friend,  a  friend,  Ardasha  !  "  replied  Volodin. 
*  Tarakan  is  Russian  for  blackbeetle. 
347 


u 


"  A  friend  with  true  love  is  like  a  beetle  behind  the 
stove,"  said  Varvara. 

"  Not    a   beetle    but   a   ram,"    corrected    Peredonov. 
'  Well,  you  and  I  will  drink  together,  Pavloushka,  only 
we  two.     And   you,    Varvara,   drink   also — we'll   drink 
together,  we  two." 

Volodin  said  with  a  snigger  : 

"  If  Varvara  Dmitrievna  drinks  with  us,  it  won't  be 
two  but  three." 

'  Two,  I  say,"  repeated  Peredonov  morosely. 
'  Husband  and  wife  are  one  Satan,"  said  Varvara,  and 
began  to  laugh. 

Volodin  did  not  suspect  to  the  last  minute  that  Pere- 
donov wanted  to  kill  him.  He  kept  on  bleating,  making 
a  fool  of  himself,  and  uttering  nonsense,  which  made 
Varvara  laugh.  But  Peredonov  did  not  forget  his  knife 
the  whole  evening.  When  Volodin  or  Varvara  walked 
up  to  that  side  where  the  knife  was  hidden,  Peredonov 
savagely  warned  them  off.  Sometimes  he  pointed  at  his 
pocket  and  said  : 

'  I  have  a  trick  here,  Pavloushka,  that  will  make  you 
quack." 

Varvara  and  Volodin  laughed. 

"  I  can  always  quack,  Ardasha,"  said  Volodin.  "  Kra, 
Kra.    It's  quite  easy." 

Red,  and  drunken  with  vodka,  Volodin  protruded  his 
lips  and  quacked.  He  became  more  and  more  arrogant 
towards  Peredonov. 

:  You've  been  taken  in,  Ardasha,"  he  said  with  con- 
temptuous pity. 

'  I'll  take  you  in,"  bellowed  Peredonov  in  fury. 

Volodin  appeared  terrible  to  him  and  menacing.  He 
must  defend  himself.  Peredonov  quickly  pulled  out  his 
knife,  threw  himself  on  Volodin,  and  slashed  him  across 
his  throat.    The  blood  gushed  out  in  a  stream. 

Peredonov  was  frightened.  The  knife  fell  out  of  his 
hands.    Volodin  kept  up  his  bleat,  and  tried  to  catch  hold 

348 


of  his  throat  with  his  hands.  It  was  evident  that  he  was 
deadly  frightened,  that  he  was  growing  weaker,  and  that 
his  hands  would  never  reach  his  throat.  Suddenly  he 
grew  deathly  pale,  and  fell  on  Peredonov.  There  was  a 
broken  squeal — as  if  he  choked — then  he  was  silent. 
Peredonov  cried  out  in  horror,  and  Varvara  after  him. 

Peredonov  pushed  Volodin  away.  Volodin  fell  heavily 
to  the  floor.  He  groaned,  moved  his  feet,  and  was  soon 
dead.  His  open  eyes  grew  glassy,  and  their  fixed  stare 
was  directed  upwards.  The  cat  walked  out  of  the  next 
room,  smelt  the  blood,  and  mewed  malignantly.  Varvara 
stood  as  if  in  a  trance.  Klavdia  upon  hearing  the  noise, 
came  running  in. 

"  Oh,  Lord,  they've  cut  his  throat,"  she  wailed. 

Varvara  roused  herself,  and  with  a  scream  rushed  from 
the  dining-room  together  with  Klavdia, 

The  news  of  the  event  spread  quickly.  The  neighbours 
collected  in  the  street,  and  in  the  garden.  The  bolder 
ones  went  into  the  house.  They  did  not  venture  to  enter 
the  dining-room  for  some  time.  They  peeped  in  and 
whispered.  Peredonov  was  looking  at  the  corpse  with 
his  vacant  eyes,  and  listened  to  the  whispers  behind  the 
door.  ...  A  dull  sadness  tormented  him.  He  had  no 
thoughts. 

At  last  they  grew  bolder,  and  entered.  Peredonov 
was  sitting  with  downcast  eyes,  and  mumbling  incoherent, 
meaningless  words. 


349 


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